The Long Twilight Path -- An Uncertain Path sequel
by red rose knight
Summary: 5 years later. The Republic is divided and on the verge of civil war. Key political figures that have held the fragile galactic government together are being systematically assassinated. Now it is up to Obi-Wan Kenobi and his apprentice Bali Tiro to find
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Summary: It is now five years after the events of _An Uncertain Path_. The Republic is divided and on the verge of civil war. Key political figures that have held the fragile galactic government together are being systematically assassinated. Now it is up to Obi-Wan Kenobi and his apprentice Bali Tiro to find the assassin before it is too late.

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The usual disclaimers apply. George Lucas owns it all; I am not making any money on this.

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Author's Note: This is the sequel to _An Uncertain Path_. While not required, it would be helpful just to know what is going on. You can read AUP here: 

http://www.fanfiction.net/read.php?storyid=547510

Okay, here is the deal. I am posting the story daily over at tf.n's fanfic forums. I will post a compilation of the previous week here every weekend.

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There's a dark side to each and every human soul. We wish we were Obi-Wan Kenobi, and for the most part we are, but there's a little Darth Vader in all of us. Thing is, this ain't no either-or proposition. We're talking about dialectics, the good and the bad merging into us. You can run but you can't hide. My experience? Face the darkness. Stare it down. Own it. As brother Nietzsche said, being human is a complicated gig. So give that ol' dark knight of the soul a hug. Howl the eternal yes!

Chris Stevens, "Northern Exposure"

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The Long Twilight Path

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The Book of Knowledge of Good and Evil

In the bleak light of the dying day a soft rain fell against the intricately laid cobblestone road. Water pooled in the dips and tiny streams on the roughly paved surface. 

The dull sky reflected in the little rivers as they flowed carelessly around the smooth rocks mixing with the crimson tint from the day's earlier battles. 

The touch of red twisted around the ancient stones, thinning and blending with the water until it vanished into the shadow of the great wall that divided the city of Koba.

A loud hacking broke the gentle silence of the rainfall.

"Miserable weather," a large human Clausum grumbled as he paced before the gateway leading to the Tomenaar side of the city. 

"It could be worse, Roik," the senior officer said. "Those hairy beasts could be rioting like earlier."

Roik just grumbled between coughs as he pulled the collar of his cloak up around his ears and leaned back against the fortified wooden doors.

Saar paced along the wall, pausing to listen to the falling rain. The weather was too cold and miserable for anyone in his or her right mind to be out on the streets and it suited the older man just fine. He turned to glance back at the door that protected him from the Tomenaar half of the city. 

It was his job to protect the Clausum's from that vermin and he did his job with verve. No matter what the weather threatened he would vigilantly maintain his post. No one would escape on his watch.

Not like what had happened just that morning during another guard's watch.

The wall breech had left twelve Clausums dead. 

Over the rain slicked cobblestone streets came a gentle splashing of small footsteps as a boy ran toward the two human guards. The falling rain had plastered his dark hair to his scalp and the water trickled down his forehead. Tears streamed down his cheeks from bright green eyes. He whimpered as he approached the men. "My father is missing." He stood there for a moment and then burst into sobs. "I want my patri!"

The two Clausums eyed each other but did not move from the shelter of the great wall. 

The boy wiped thick tears from his eyes as he humbly approached the two guards. "Please, sirs, have you seen my patri?"

Saar considered the soaking wet boy. His eyes were red and he appeared to have been sobbing for some time. Sighing he stepped into the gently falling rain. "I don't know, what does he look like?"

The boy held his hand above his head. "About this tall." Sniffling he stared up at the senior officer. "He didn't come home and he works near here. Sells camir fruits at the market." Again the boy wiped tears from his big green eyes as he looked up at the two men standing before him. "I heard there was a break in the wall this afternoon. He hasn't come home yet." He fought back another sob waiting for an answer.

A sad look briefly danced across Saar's face. "I need to make a call," he said plainly knowing he did not want to be the one to break the news to the boy if his father was among the victims. "Let's see if I can get someone to help you, all right?"

The boy nodded through tear blurred eyes. "Yes, sir," his voice trembled.

The tall commander turned only to find Riok lying face down on the white stone behind him. "What the—"

Instantly the boy reached out, a powerful Force push sent Saar slamming back against the heavy wooden doors. The large form crumpled to the wet street.

A soggy form stood in the shadows. "I do not believe you needed to hit him that hard."

"Sorry, Master," Bali Tiro said as he ran his fingers through his wet hair making it stand up in short spikes. Then he carefully pulled his padawan braid out from where it was tucked under his collar. The ginger tip made the tight braid glow in the dull light. "He was big. I thought he needed an extra push."

Obi-Wan Kenobi stepped out of the shadow of the wall. The cold rain ran through his trimmed ginger hair and glistened in his beard. "Never judge someone by their size, Padawan. You would not think Master Yoda was weak because he is small. Or Master Melack is strong because he is large."

"No, Master," the boy said as he quietly fell into step behind the Jedi.

Obi-Wan searched Saar's coat for the keys to the heavy door as Bali kept watch for anyone approaching. Quickly the Jedi Master had the keys and unlocked the door. Tossing the keys back into the pile the two men made up he turned back to the patiently waiting thirteen year old boy. "Pull your hood up. The Tomenaars will be hostile to us as we look like Clausums."

"Yes, Master," Bali replied dutifully as he followed the Jedi through the gate making sure to lock it behind them.

The two wet figures stole silently into the cold air of the Tomenaar side of the city. Just inside the gate the muddy ground was scarred from the battle earlier that morning. The Jedi carefully sidestepped the small rivers of maroon that flowed over the street like veins. 

From under the sagging cowl, bright green eyes peeked out and briefly studied the master that walked two steps in front of him.

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Pay attention, Padawan.

Yes, Master, Bali obediently replied as he turned his attention back to his surroundings. Where his vision failed him in the fading light the Force sang. Dank, dull surroundings glowed in a rainbow of colors with the energy of the Force. Life all around him exploded in his senses. 

Mud oozed and squished underfoot. They had left the pristine, rich Clausum city of Koba and walked into another world. 

Run down shacks populated the muddy, ill shaped streets. Thick billows of black smoke rolled out of the shanties obscuring the fading sky. 

The walk through the sinking mud was difficult and Bali had to struggle to keep close behind his master. He made sure though to imitate Obi-Wan's movements, keeping his arms folded in the sleeves to help obscure his form in the folds of his cloak. 

A creaking sound drew Bali's attention and he struggled not to turn his head toward the noise and sight of a nearby shack door opening. Dull firelight poured out of the opening into the grim, cold street.

"Who goes there!" A scratchy voice called out.

The Jedi did not hesitate but kept walking silently toward a predetermined destination.

"You there!" Another voice called out.

Doors opened all along the muddy street spilling the pale light into the Jedi's path.

"It is curfew!" 

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Master?

Keep walking, Padawan, Obi-Wan sent through their bond.

More doors opened.

Whispers echoed just above the falling rain.

"Who goes there!"

"Jedi!"

"Jedi have come!"

In a gentle yet familiar surge, Bali could feel the Force pulling and twisting at his master's command. Taking the cue, the apprentice breathed deeply as he focused on the power that enveloped the two Jedi. At his own willing, the Force bent around him, taking some of the strain of masking their presence from the older Jedi.

Slowly doors closed and the Tomenaars disappeared back into their homes as whatever had drawn their attention had faded.

Unnoticed the two Jedi traveled into the depths of the quiet city. 

Bali ducked into a narrow alleyway just behind his master and nearly slipped as the muddy street sloped sharply downhill. The momentary shock faded as he found his balance and fell back into step behind Obi-Wan. He could see a jumble of dingy mud huts sitting at the base of the hill. The stench of old rot clung to everything.

The apprentice had been numerous places in the last few years, after the Council had deemed it fit that he was trained enough to leave the safety of the Temple. The first few missions with his master had been gentle. They consisted of a series of simple diplomatic exercises that had allowed him to see other worlds for the very first time. 

Bali inwardly grinned at the thought of what always happened when he returned to the Temple after each mission. All of the other padawans wanted to know what great battles they had been in. The question that was invariably asked was if they had fought any Sith, as if his master was a magnet to the dark side users. When he tried to explain to them it was not like that, the padawans and initiates were convinced the Council itself had made him swear to secrecy about the missions. 

His head had been filled with tales and fantasies about the famous Sith killer but Bali knew the truth. Obi-Wan Kenobi, Sith killer, was just Master. Still the adventurous part of the padawan could not wait for the more exciting missions his master was known for before they became a team. 

Tracking through mud, though, was not his idea of an exciting mission. Even though his master had assured him that all missions were important no matter how menial they seemed, Bali still had trouble with the thought.

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On guard, Padawan, came the quick warning just before Bali bumped into the suddenly motionless knight. 

Before Bali could register a threat, Obi-Wan had activated his lightsaber and engaged an attacker. The falling rain sizzled against the glowing blue blade. Bali quickly activated his pale violet weapon as the shadow moved toward them. He slashed through the heavy air driving the dark form back a few steps. 

The large hairy black beast swung a heavy piece of discarded lumber at Obi-Wan's head. The master ducked and deftly sliced through the crude weapon halving it. The beast howled in frustration and pitched the section he still held at the Jedi. Obi-Wan went to the side, pulling Bali backward to safety.

Before Obi-Wan could turn, the creature lashed out with a heavily clawed hand tearing through the soaking wet cloak. The Jedi twisted, narrowly missing the sharp talons a second time.

Bali's low height easily kept him out of the beast's reach as he ducked under the attack and thrust out with the pale violet blade. 

The beast howled as the saber singed his long fur. Turning its attention on the boy, he growled viscously sending Bali stumbling backward. The apprentice tumbled into the thick mud just missing a devastating blow. 

The slick ground made the battle difficult, keeping the Jedi constantly on the defensive as they were driven toward a dead end. As his master defended against the furious larger creature, Bali searched for an opening to escape. 

The creature lashed out with such speed Obi-Wan could not defend himself fast enough without severely wounding the beast and was smashed against the side of the head throwing him to the wet street. The hairy creature drew back a clawed hand to strike at the downed Jedi.

"We are searching for Nochian Spex!" Bali screamed the only Tomen phrase he knew as he moved to his dazed master's side.

The beast stopped, turning to look at the mud covered boy. Its dark eyes glinted in the poor evening light. It responded in a heavily accented Basic bark, "Pink skins do not speak his holiness' name!" The furry beast reared his clawed hand back to strike at the blasphemous child.

Just as the dripping, taloned hand flew forward, Obi-Wan threw himself over the apprentice. "Nochian Spex sent for us—"

A pain filled cry escaped the Jedi as the sharp claws ripped through the muddy brown cloak.

"Stop!" A voice rang out over the din of the falling rain. A furry gray face appeared within the folds of a deep red cloak standing just feet from the stilled fray. "You foolish child," the figure growled as he shook an ornamented staff toward the black haired beast. "Do you not see these are Jedi? How dare you attack them!"

The beast withdrew slightly, lowering his face in shame.

The Tomenaar shaman motioned to the Jedi in the mud. "Come, he is expecting you."

Bali looked to his master anxiously and received a reassuring pulse through their bond. 

Disengaging his weapon Obi-Wan slowly rose to his feet and then helped Bali up. Both Jedi straightened their mud covered, disheveled appearances before following the shaman.

They were led deeper into the Tomenaar village, through winding, labyrinthine alleys.

"Jedi," the shaman said to himself then turned back toward the following figures. "Come. Come."

Bali looked around curiously as rain ran down washing some of the mud from his dirty face. He tried to bite back the concern filling him knowing he was just being childish and afraid for no reason. His master followed the shaman without question. There was no worry for the youth to sense from the older Jedi.

The small group entered another short alley that clearly ended in a dead end. Bali cast out to see what the near darkness concealed. The alleyway that appeared empty was actually teaming with life. The old man before them, followed by the wild beast thing that had attacked them and the silent hidden masses. It seemed they were in the heart of the slum city. Torches with glowing yellow and blue flames lighted the narrow alley. In the flickering light Bali noted the clinging wet cloak that hung off his master's broad shoulders. The deep brown material was slashed open the length of the boy's outstretched hand. Deep red mingled with the water below the gash.

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Master? He asked worriedly through the training bond.

A wave of reassurance moved through the bond as well as an instruction to pay close attention to what was going on around them.

It was so hard to pay attention when there was so much to distract him. 

A well-made ceiling of poor materials covered the very end of the closed alley. The shaman guided the two Jedi beneath and asked them to shed their dirty cloaks. Obi-Wan quietly obeyed while Bali hesitated before mimicking his master. 

The gray haired creature turned to the Jedi and spoke in his stilted, heavily accented Basic, "Come, Jedi. Awaits you he does."

The old wood that made up the end of the alley shifted revealing a door held together with wire and hope. The shaman pushed it open and ushered the Jedi into a round common room. 

Glancing around at the village mystics sitting on colorful floor pillows and sporting brightly colored tunics Bali decided it was the Tomenaar equivalent of the Jedi Council chamber. 

They bowed before the gathered creatures. 

Each of the five Tomenaars mumbled something and inclined their heads to the newcomers. The shaman moved to the man in the center of the group and spoke to him in their native tongue.

Bali studied the elder Tomenaar. His fur was a yellowish gray and his eyes had lost the bright yellow the others sported. Under the thinning fur Bali could see the shifting of bones. 

Pale yellow eyes sought Obi-Wan out and studied the master silently for a long time. Then they fell to Bali who stood patiently under the scrutiny before the elder turned his attention back to the Jedi Master. 

The elder coughed weakly, making a pain filled grimace for the action. "Thought you would arrive too late," he said in a perfectly cultured core accent.

Bali perked up slightly at the voice.

The ancient Tomenaar laughed. "Schooled the boy, you have not on me." Before Obi-Wan could reply he went on. "I was a Jedi once."

Bali struggled not to look surprised.

Weakly the old man motioned to some pillows on the floor and the Jedi gratefully took the offering. The hut was quite warm even though no fire burned. 

"Tell me," the elder began, "does that troll still live?"

Obi-Wan smiled. "Master Yoda still wields his walking stick with a vengeance."

"Bah!" The old man grumbled. "You should investigate him for use in the dark side. No one should live that long." He paused noting Bali's concerned look and laughed warmly. "Do not worry, Little One, my Master is used to my cruel jokes."

Obi-Wan turned to Bali. "Master Spex was one of Master Yoda's apprentices."

"Oh," Bali said looking at the old man.

The old man coughed and was obviously in pain. After a moment, he opened his eyes and studied the apprentice. "Come here, Little One," he said softly, motioning Bali to him.

The boy hesitated, unsure what to do, but a reassuring hand to his back sent him forward. He stood before the old man and knelt when he was silently commanded to. Spex lightly fingered the flame tip of Bali's braid, studying the ginger that blended into the boy's natural dark hair. He brushed bits of mud away that was already drying between the strands. Then the old man motioned Bali to lean close and he whispered something very soft in the boy's ear. Bali sat back with a confused and worried look. His hands twisted together and he consciously struggled not to fidget. Spex motioned him close and whispered something else. 

"Now go to your master's side," he softly ordered and Bali quickly obeyed. "Remember, Little One, that is for you alone to keep."

"Yes, Master," Bali replied grateful to be close to Obi-Wan's warm, familiar aura again. 

Spex studied the boy for a while longer before a coughing fit caused him to look away. The other elders tended to the ill form before Spex pushed them away. He turned his complete attention to Obi-Wan. "The Republic cannot save us," he said flatly. "It is under attack."

"The secessionists--"

"Are not assassins. But assassins roam the Republic, poisoning it."

Obi-Wan's calm blue eyes studied the older man.

Spex coughed again, this time the pain nearly overcame the old Tomenaar. "Know this, you already do," he said weakly.

It took all of Bali's calming techniques to remain impassive like his master. Between the whispers the ancient one had imparted to him and the fact the boy was certain Spex was dying unsettled him terribly.

Nochian Spex laughed. "I have been poisoned and now my time grows very short." His voice was thin and the Jedi had to strain to hear. "The assassin came in the night bringing death on wings of caari birds." His colorless eyes sought out the knight. "Have you ever heard their death song?"

"Yes, Master."

"They thought to rob me of my voice." He studied Obi-Wan for a moment. "They will come soon for you, young Jedi." The old man collapsed into a coughing fit and the others moved to protect the dying elder. They gently laid the convulsing body into the gathered pillows wrapping him in ornately woven blankets. Again Spex pushed his help away and motioned for Obi-Wan to approach. 

The knight knelt quietly next to the dying man. 

"Assassins," Spex groaned. "Assassins are killing—"

There was a long silence as the old Tomenaar stared up at the ceiling. "Dark times loom close to the horizon. Not even the brightest sun can overcome the shadows. There are assassins." He motioned weakly to the red clothed shaman. 

The shaman handed the elder something. 

"Many died for this," Spex said softly as he palmed a data chip off to Obi-Wan. With his dying breath, Spex whispered, "You mustkill Palpatine—"

Then the life of the ancient one quietly ceased.

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The Book of Deadly Alliances

The deep red interior of Supreme Chancellor Palpatine's office gave an artificial glow of warmth to his withering features. "Senator," he beamed as he glided to the gateway of his office to meet the approaching entourage. 

"Chancellor," was the formal reply from behind an emerald green veil that draped over an elaborate headdress. "It has been so long."

Palpatine bowed graciously before the figure while briefly glancing at the waiting handmaiden and security officer. 

"I am no longer queen," her formal voice rang out as she pulled the veil away revealing herself as Amidala, former ruler of the Naboo. "Such formalities are no longer necessary. After all, it is you who I should be bowing to." She offered the older man a genuinely warm smile.

Palpatine returned with a humble smile. "You honor me, but I am merely a politician," he said with a flourish as he escorted Padmé into the common chamber of the office. "I trust your journey was well?"

"It was long and tiresome as always." Padmé smiled as she took care to spread her travelling gown out to sit on the edge of the deep red couch. She eyed her entourage who had taken up silent position at the far side of the room. The rest of her security waited patiently in the corridor. She inwardly frowned knowing that heavily armed soldiers had replaced her innovative handmaidens. All that remained was Sirceé and only because she demanded the handmaiden's presence as a personal assistant.

The Chancellor twisted his dark robes about before taking the seat across from the young woman. "You must forgive me for not greeting you upon your arrival."

"You are quite busy, Chancellor. I thank you for this bit of time that you have gallantly made in you schedule."

Palpatine offered up a friendly laugh. "So busy I am afraid, that I have not been to my beloved Naboo in nearly a year. Tell me of it," he said leaning forward with great interest.

"It is the fall and the yarels have turned their lovely shade of gold." Padmé hesitated as she stared at the kindly, yet stress worn face of her friend and fellow Naboo. There was a more important reason for her visit to her political predecessor and she knew her visit would be short, as there were other pressing matters both needed to attend to. "There are great rumblings in the Senate."

Palpatine frowned and sank back into his chair. Just as he opened his mouth to respond he was interrupted by the unsubtle sound of throat being cleared. A very annoyed look glazed his imperious features as he turned slightly. "Yes?" The word was laced with venom.

Boldly stepping up to the two politicians was a bouncy young woman with platinum blond hair tied back in intricate knots and ugly yellow bows. She excitedly studied the Senator. "Your Highness," she bubbled, "I have always wanted to meet you." Then quickly she put her hand out to shake Padmé's.

The former queen just stared dully at the excitable female who had so rudely interrupted her much needed conversation with the Chancellor. She nodded slightly but gave no friendliness in the action. "Senator," was the brusk correction. "I am no longer the ruler of Naboo and should not be addressed so," she said curtly in her deep, formal tone.

Jira frowned slightly before masking it with a smile as she withdrew her outstretched hand.

Palpatine offered an apologetic look to Padmé as he stood up. "Senator Amidala, this is an assistant of mine, Jira Thelo."

"The house of Thelo from the southern lands?" Padmé asked only semi politely wishing the blond would leave.

Jira nodded energetically, "Yes, Senator. My Father—"

"As a favor to her father," Palpatine calmly cut in, "I am allowing her to intern in my office for a short time. Get to know the ways of the world outside the Naboo country life."

Padmé smiled. "Then indeed, you have not lost all touch with Naboo."

The Chancellor nodded graciously then turned his attention on Jira. "Are those transcriptions for my meeting with the Trade Council finished?" The tone clearly stated that he was tired of humoring her.

"Almost." Jira frowned and withdrew a few steps. "I will get right on them, sir." She turned back to the Senator for a moment and tried to smile happily. "It was nice meeting you." Without hesitation she quietly left the room.

Offering up a frustrated sigh, Palpatine turned back to address Padmé. "Her family had always been kind to mine. I could not very well tell Lord Thelo that his daughter is a useless twit and I would have her no where near me."

Padmé allowed a girlish smile to escape her plainly decorated face. "Is she truly that awful?"

"There is no corner of my office that is safe from her," Palpatine replied as he sat back down. "I would not wish her on my worst enemies. Her _assistance_ turned my conference with the Leolian Federation into a complete disaster. They nearly walked out in the middle of it." He waved his hand. "But I digress."

A low whistling sound rattled the transparasteel walls of the lush office. 

Padmé placed both hands to her side as the vibrations in the room quickly intensified.

Palpatine slowly rose in his seat his eyes wide. "Gracious, what is that?"

An armored, Colocoid tank, literally an air borne destroyer, hovered just outside the expansive windows behind the large desk.

"It's an attack!" Sirceé barked as she and the guard rushed at the Chancellor and Senator.

The tank fired, ion cannons slammed into the shielded outer walls of the Senate office building. The tower shook and rattled as the tank continued to fire melting through the transparent plating.

Bright flashes of light quickly blinded Padmé before she could respond to the attack. She barely had a chance to register the Chancellor grab her arm and push her toward the back of the offices. Sirceé and the guard quickly threw themselves between the politicians and their attackers, shoving them quickly forward. 

The cannons tore through the protective wall causing the office to explode. Icy winds cut through the room in a torrent, sweeping up debris in a small cyclone as the tank continued to systematically destroy the room.

Pushed into the safety of a corridor, Padmé glanced back just in time to see the flash of the cannons before everything went black.

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The Book of Ties That Bind

Obi-Wan leaned back in the pilot's seat of the small transport. "We have only just passed Tomen's outer rings. The transmissions are still unstable," he said quietly answering the master's question before it was even asked.

The small, bluish hologram of Mace Windu shimmered, briefly breaking up then appearing again. "Did he speak of his visions?"

The ginger haired Jedi hesitated a moment as he gathered his thoughts. "Master Spex was quite ill upon our arrival. His strength was quickly fading." There was a moment as he silently replayed the scene in his mind. "He said assassin, stop, assassin and," there was a long pause, "kill Palpatine."

The Senior Council member appeared contemplative for a moment. Then he turned to stare off screen listening to a silently delivered message. Turning back to the holocamera his expression was grim. "A report has just come in." The image flickered before slowly stabilizing. "There has been an attack on Chancellor Palpatine and Senator Amidala of Naboo." After a moment of hesitation, he turned back. "Both have survived. It is unclear who was the victim of the attack though. The Chancellor or the Senator for her loyalist views."

"The Chancellor," Obi-Wan said firmly. "That must have been what Master Spex was trying to say." Still, something about it felt wrong.

"And what of Spex?"

"He is dead," Obi-Wan replied flatly, pushing the stray thought to the side to review later.

Mace's image fluctuated slightly but the figure himself remained motionless. 

The younger master leaned forward slightly. "He said an assassin poisoned him."

"Did he know who it was?" The image briefly broke up. 

"He said the assassin came at night on wings of caari birds." 

The dying master had wanted to know if Obi-Wan had heard their death song. It was not something anyone could ever forget once heard. At least he knew he would never forget that sound.

"Much like his master to the end." There was a moment of hesitation as the Councilor gathered himself. "A great voice we have lost," he said absently. Then his digital gaze seemed to meet Obi-Wan's. "Did you acquire the information?"

"A data chip."

"Good. Make a copy of it." Again, there was a slight hesitation before the image stabilized. "You have been requested to report directly to the Chancellor."

"Yes, Master," was the obedient reply as Obi-Wan tiredly waited for the image to finally shimmer out. 

There was a strange sense of sadness knowing Nochian Spex was dead. The venerable Jedi master, much like Yoda, had always been and he could not imagine a time without the presence even if it was in the periphery of his existence. Master Spex had lived nearly five hundred years and his visions were believed to be far more accurate than Yoda's. After his health called him away from daily life in the Temple, he sought refuge among his people. Often offering his services to various governments, he had acquired a great many who were indebted to him. In return, any information he requested was provided. 

Obi-Wan held up the eagerly awaited data chip. He briefly wondered why, but did not attempt to find out. He already knew the information was encrypted and he had no means of unlocking the puzzle. Instead he pulled a data pad and set it up to make a copy of the information from the chip.

He twisted back in his seat slightly to look in the common area of the transport. The dying master had imparted some information to Bali, whether it was good or bad he did not know. The padawan would steadfastly keep the secret. Still, the young master worried that he might not be able to protect the boy from the unknown prophecy.

Warding off the chill of space, he wrapped his clean cloak tighter around himself. It had been so refreshing to have a nice, clean and dry set of clothing waiting for him aboard the runner. He stood, but paused for a moment to gently massage his aching shoulder. The torn flesh along the blade was not serious but it still hurt. The cold and the mud had done little for it or the constant backache that plagued him. 

Whether he wanted to admit it or not, he was getting old and the hard life he had subjected himself to was taking its toll on his body.

Slowly the Jedi moved into the common area and just stopped. A little smile quirked his expression at the sight before him. 

Bali laid face down on the bench that doubled as a sleep couch. Appendages went every which direction sticking out under a mangled blanket and cloak. The boy groaned and whimpered within the confines of a dream. Or nightmare as Obi-Wan had long since decided but was unable to help, as Bali never spoke of the images that haunted him.

The Jedi Master drew to the edge of the bed and pulled the rumpled cloak out from under the apprentice. Bali grumbled incoherently but did not wake up. Obi-Wan carefully shook out the cloak out and draped it over the small thirteen year old.

Kneeling at the side of the bench, he studied Bali's peaceful expression mashed into the folds of the blanket. His attention immediately fell to the small bandage that covered a gash just above the boy's right brow.

Obi-Wan gently brushed his fingers around the edge of the wound and frowned.

"Go away, Master," Bali mumbled softly as he turned away from the hovering Jedi. "I am sleeping."

Frustration welled up in Obi-Wan as he knew he should have been easily able to heal the simple wound. He could not and Bali had to walk around looking like an accident victim for it.

His dear, sweet, and annoying friend Bant had promised to teach Bali the fine art of Force healing when he was ready. That time had not quite arrived.

"Go away," Bali mumbled as he raised a sleepy hand and pushed the doting master back. "Sleeping."

Obi-Wan chuckled as he caught the searching hand and gently placed it to the boy's side. "Yes, I suppose I should not disturb your beauty sleep. I just thoughtnever mind." Fighting the smile he stood up and walked back to the cockpit.

"Awake!" Bali said suddenly very lively as he shot up on the bench. 

The master took his time facing the green-eyed boy with the mussed up hair. Biting back the grin, he gave Bali a wry look. "Did you not just tell me to go away?"

Bali made a face. "You are being difficult again."

Obi-Wan grinned as he walked back over to the sleepy faced boy and ran his fingers through the dark hair that was plastered to Bali's head making the spikes stand straight up. 

"Master," was the plaintive cry as the apprentice roughly adjusted his mashed hair.

The playful mood slipped from the Jedi as he stared down at the tired boy. "I know it has been a rough day."

Bali made another face at the understatement.

Ignoring the response, Obi-Wan continued rather sternly. "I am certain—at least you were supposed too—that you took time out this morning for meditation."

"I always meditate before I start my day," Bali replied dutifully.

"I suppose you were quite reflective as well?"

"That would be the purpose of the meditation, Master."

Obi-Wan nodded, remaining in quiet contemplation for a time. "Very good," he said quickly as he turned and disappeared into the cockpit.

Bali just sat there staring out blankly. Loudly yawning he mumbled to himself, "He woke me up for that?" Then, unceremoniously, he flopped face first back into the blanket.

The Master stuck his head back through the open door, only to find the boy deep in sleep. Stifling a soft laugh, he crept quietly over to the sleeping form again. After studying the child, he gently adjusted the cloak again. The whiteness of the bacta bandage caught his attention for a second time. 

Without lingering on the thought, the Jedi carefully peeled the bandage away from the small wound. Gentle fingers brushed the edges of the gash as he carefully guided healing energies to mend the damaged flesh. 

The moment the healing was complete, he pulled his hand away fighting the chill and pain that rippled through him. It took every bit of control to keep quiet and shielded. Short, quick breaths kept him from crying out. 

It hurt.

He should not have done that.

Slowly the worst of the pain subsided with a shudder but a cold weakness had seized hold of him. A sad awareness washed over him as his still trembling hand removed a small item from his utility belt.

Carefully Obi-Wan pried open Bali's hand and placed a smooth river stone in his palm. "Happy birthday," he whispered.

________________

__

The Book of Arrivals

Two tall, hooded figures glided silently through the debris-strewn corridor of the Senate office building. Their varied brown cloaks flowed in the breeze created by their swift movement. No notice was taken of the soft murmurs floating in the hall from the multitude of alien creatures clinging to open doorways and intersections.

__

"Reports are coming in"

"It was the secessionists"

"Madness, it is all madness"

"Where were they?"

"Should have known the Jedi would show up late."

The Jedi stopped before the protected corridor that opened into the Chancellor's private office. Four heavily armed guards, weapons at ready, blocked the entrance. 

"You will let us pass," the slightly taller of the two figures said.

Without any hesitation, the guards quickly stepped to the side allowing a narrow path for the Jedi to pass through.

With their cloaks sweeping out at the edges of the narrowed corridor the Jedi stepped into the demolition area that had been Palpatine's office. A portable generator had already sealed the exterior as crews worked to replace the melted transparasteel wall. More crews worked to repair the deep gouges left in the floor and walls as others brought in replacement carpet to cover the work. 

More armed guards were posted around the massive office. Outside, stepped up patrols slowly flew around the building.

"I will not leave," the defiant voice of the Supreme Chancellor rang out. 

"Your safety, Chancellor," Mas Amedda pleaded as he turned his attention away from orchestrating the clean up of the office to the elder man.

Palpatine rose unsteadily from his chair sitting next to the burned up remains of his desk. A deep gash ran across his cheek. The bleeding had been staved off but the wound remained dark and angry. "I am well protected," he said as he spied his new arrivals. "The Coruscant patrol and the Senatorial Guard are hunting these attackers down. It is unlikely a follow up attack will occur anytime soon." He swept his hand across the damaged room. "Look at this mess, they expected one attack to finish the deed. Hiding now would only show fear. That is not the image I chose to show."

"Chancellor," Amedda argued.

"I will hear no more," Palpatine ordered with a wave of his hand. Turning his back to Amedda, he walked to the two arrivals. Greeting the tall figures, Palpatine forced a weak laugh. "You will have to excuse my office. It seems I am in the midst of spontaneous redecorating."

The cloaked figures lowered their cowls, revealing the more salt than pepper image of Qui-Gon Jinn and his eighteen-year-old apprentice, Anakin Skywalker.

"Chancellor," Qui-Gon said, formally bowing with Anakin quickly following suit. 

"Master Jinn and young Skywalker, indeed I must be blessed," Palpatine replied with a weary smile.

"We were nearby," Anakin offered, "and witnessed the attack." His bright blue eyes quickly swept the office before settling on the older gentleman before him. "I hope there were no injuries."

Palpatine motioned to his gashed cheek. "Merely cuts and bruises and rattled nerves." With a flourish of his dark robes, he led the two men deeper into his shattered office. "The Guard of course are in pursuit. These assassins will not get away." He said with conviction, placing great faith the investigative skills of the Senate guard.

Almost as soon as silence had fallen between the three men, Anakin's attention drifted as Qui-Gon fell into step beside the Chancellor. They paced quietly through the office toward a large black table. The apprentice allowed his thoughts to wander as they too often did these days. 

Through the unlimited flow of the Force, he could _see_ the damage beneath the hasty repairs. They were just masking the ruin and devastation under a pretty façade.

__

Padawan.

Anakin turned slightly to see his master quietly conversing with the Chancellor but did not attempt to approach. Instead, he turned his attention back to the room. 

There was something familiar—warm—that he could not quite place and continued to search it out. It reminded him of the past. 

Another group of guards surrounded a small alcove. In their midst, Anakin thought he saw a touch of maroon. The color reminded him of the clothing the handmaidens—Padmé—had worn during the battle of Naboo nine years ago. For him it was an entire lifetime ago. 

"Padawan," Qui-Gon said with virtually no hint of agitation in his voice, unlike through the training bond where it reverberated strongly. The shift of the master's eyes told the young man that he should show the proper respect and follow the conversation.

"This is a new play for the rebelling worlds," Palpatine continued oblivious to the unspoken conversation as he found a seat at the conference table. 

"I did not know the League of Secessionists were actively inciting war," Qui-Gon said unobtrusively as he folded his arms across his chest taking on a more relaxed, but no less imposing stance.

"The Senate is rumbling with rumor and innuendo that the League is behind the assassinations that have plagued the Senate in recent months. I have information that proof of these allegations is in route as we speak.

Qui-Gon remained silent but the Chancellor did not explain further. "This," he swept his hand through the air indicating the damaged office, "was to make a statement. The murdered senators were killed discretely."

"It is a troublesome piece to the puzzle," Palpatine said softly. "Of course, I am uncertain that I am not the target of the attack."

"It is your office," Anakin said plainly, sensing the older man was hiding something, he just could not place it. There was something else distracting him and he turned to seek out the glowing warmth.

"I was the target."

At the voice, Anakin spun, knowing before his eyes settled on an Angel of Iego. His eyes widened taking in the sight of the young woman standing just beyond the circle of conversation. A happy grin found his lips. 

Padmé's stern expression surveyed the room before approaching the three men. She settled on Palpatine briefly before seeking out the warm expression of the gray haired master. Her make-up had been straightened and she was now wearing a simpler outfit. A deep blue fitted tunic and matching leggings with high boots and a black waistcoat altered to her figure. 

Her gaze was steady but the slight tremble of her lips gave away her frayed nerves. 

"Master Jinn," she said formally tilting her head toward the elder Jedi.

"Senator."

Anakin brightened with anticipation for the young woman to look his way. She was as beautiful as he remembered, maybe even more so. Warm colors highlighted her delicate eyelids making her eyes more welcoming even if she did not look his direction. 

He knew he should look away, he had to look away. It was wrong just to stare but he could not take his eyes from the vision before him. The apprentice realized that Padmé was speaking and he chided himself for not paying attention.

"Much like yourself, Chancellor, I will not hide. By doing so these terrorists will win." She eyed Anakin briefly but then turned her complete attention to the Jedi Master. 

Qui-Gon spoke firmly. "Senator, all that is being done—"

"The Chancellor," Padmé interrupted with equal determination, "has convened an advisory council. Members of the Senatorial Committee on Republic Civil Affairs, of which I am a part of, will be arriving shortly. Regardless of whether I was the focus of the attack or not. It is my duty to participate. I will not go to my room and hide like some frightened child."

Anakin beamed at the fearless nature of the Senator.

"The Loyalist Committee," Qui-Gon said bringing the committee's informal name to the forefront.

The apprentice silently noted the hint of distaste in the master's voice when he had spoken. The Loyalists, the Master had often lectured, were well on their way to becoming grand inquisitors. It was under their recommendation and counsel that the Republic close off any trade routes or shipping lanes that could make travel easy for the League and its rebelling parent, the Aveniar Imperium. After all, it was only, fair since the Aveniar closed shipping lanes first.

Qui-Gon had described the actions of the Republic and the League as giants in the playground. They were purely motivated by a political game of tug of war with neither faction caring about the worlds they strangled in the process.

"If that is what you choose to call it, Master Jinn, I cannot deny what it is." Padmé studied the tall master before asking pointedly, "The Jedi are loyal to the Republic, are they not?"

"It is our duty to serve," Anakin said quickly earning a quick look from the young Senator.

_______________________

Book of Flesh and Bone Part I

__

Rage.

Pain.

Pain.

Pain.

Stealing his breath a jumble of emotions flooded together in one agony filled cry.

He was completely helpless to stop it.

And for once, he did not want to.

Imprisoned in the moment, it was the only thing Obi-Wan could control. It would not make the pain go away. It would not change what had happened. 

But he could control his cries.

He could scream if he wanted to. 

His vision swam and showed no signs of improvement as long as he howled in agony.

That was all he wanted.

Just to scream until he no longer possessed a voice. Until he was no longer strong enough to keep screaming. His cries drowned out the whispers of the dramatic failure that encroached in his wounded thoughts.

So, he screamed to drown out the physical and mental pain that was quickly crushing his spirit. Even a little pain was a weight he could no longer bear.

He continued to scream until his throat and bruised lungs could no longer handle the torture and he sank into an uncertain silence. His weary mind drifted to the edge of unconsciousness floating precariously between dream and the waking nightmare. 

The cold was making his sore lungs ache with every shallow breath. 

The warmth and protection of his cloak was gone and he no longer possessed the strength to search for something else to warm him. 

For a long time, he just focused on each stilted breath. The air that flowed in and out of his lungs was life. With every excruciating gasp of air, he drew a little more strength. Calling softly to the Force for help in this terrible moment, he welcomed the comfort it offered. 

The mission may have ended in failure but it was not over. Obi-Wan silently promised to see it to its conclusion. He had to go on. 

A weak smile crossed his pale lips as the awesome power of the Force began to ease some of the pain. Even if it was just a little bit, he was thankful.

After a while the unsteady hum of the ancient Golian transport became a dull roar against the back of his head. His salvation, Obi-Wan thought dully. Or the instrument of a long, drawn out death.

Still, the knight was mercifully thankful to the captain who remained sequestered in the cockpit. 

The tears slowly cleared, leaving their salty trail clinging to the sides of his face. Slowly Obi-Wan focused on the dingy ceiling he helplessly stared up at. The powerfully uneven vibration of the durasteel floor he laid on did not help the terrible ache that radiated through his body. The mind-numbing source radiated from his spine making movement difficult at best.

At least he hoped it was only pain that kept him frightfully still

The slightest muscle twitch set his body on fire. The Jedi grunted and gritted his teeth as he carefully sought out the source of the pain. He was one massive bruise. What little he could see of his tunic without moving was singed, dirty and blood stained. 

Separating his thoughts from his surroundings, Obi-Wan slowly closed his eyes and focused on slow, steady breaths. He accepted the pain that radiated throughout his injured form and released it into the Force until all that remained was the deep throb in the center of his back. When he had become sufficiently relaxed, he focused his attention at his feet still secure within his boots. Then slowly, with teeth gritted, he wiggled his toes.

A deep sigh of relief at the movement immediately turned into a flood of pain. 

It had been a long fall. 

A few broken ribs, a broken arm—no, just fractured—everything else just hurt terribly. He tried to roll onto his side but the movement brought a squelched cry. 

One.

Two?

Two fractured vertebrae. Just fractured, right?

Carefully he called on the Force to probe the injury further.

Fractured, he sighed. His strength long ago sapped as he allowed himself to slip toward blissful unconsciousness.

The fall had not been so bad. The abrupt stop was what had really hurt.

Slowly he became aware of the ache of a lightsaber burn that had clipped his wrist. Without thinking Obi-Wan raised his arm to examine the wound but the flood of pain and the sudden weakness that consumed him nearly overwhelmed him. 

Anger bloomed briefly only to be quickly allowed to dissipate into the Force. There was nothing to do about it now. The damage was done and he would have to accept it and go on.

Still he could not easily let go of it and wondered how he could have been so blind.

The Force had warned him he should have left Xim the moment he arrived but he had ignored it and remained at the Calor V colony.

Obi-Wan turned inward knowing he could not push all the pain away. It hurt too much. But he could not focus to begin to heal his injuries unless he did something. If it was discovered that he was seriously injured the Masters on the Jedi Council would forbid him from taking anymore missions. He could not allow himself to be imprisoned in the Temple.

He had to make the pain go away.

In quiet desperation, he allowed each wounded thought to come to him. Mercilessly he crushed each image, pressing it into a small ball and buried so deep he would never willingly access the memory. It was all he could do, knowing that he could never just release it to the Force. He would keep it to himself and maybe, someday when it was old and forgotten he would release it when it could no longer harm him. 

The past was fixed and there was nothing he could do to change it.

Qin Luc, a noted researcher in cloning body parts for transplant, was dead. He never even got her to the ship before she was brutally cut down by blaster bolts. In truth, no on wanted the Melorian found they wanted her dead. His arrival there at the behest of the Melorian Federation had upset many.

As if matters were not complicated enough, The former Jedi, Ighista Trocha, had escaped. The knight did not question that the furious master would be plotting whatever revenge to satisfy his blood lust. Trocha was a powerful man and Obi-Wan knew he would have to be on his guard. 

The same guard he should have used during the entire mission. 

Offering a silent chide for failing to notice that the Master Healer had been hiding something.

The knight gave a weak laugh because it hurt to do too much else. 

He had missed it because he had beendistracted.

Still, not so distracted to miss what was going on in the research colony. 

Biting back the pain he carefully reached up and patted the folds of his tunic. His fingers moved dully across as small, rectangular shape.

A tiny data chip containing images of Trocha's secret project. The one Qin Luc had been stolen away from and held hostage by the Xim locals who were afraid that they were 'manufacturing life' in the colony.

The Senate certainly would be interested in the illegal cloning facility. They had long since passed strict legislation banning the creation of artificial life.

If he had only been paying attention, Qin Luc could have been there to tell the Senate herself just what was going on in those white buildings.

Things would have been different.

Halla would also be alive.

_________________________

__

The Book of Accusations

Without preamble, guards burst into the Chancellor's damaged office, their dark boots were stark against the dust that had settled into the deep red weave of the carpet. In their protective midst walked two senators: Erigar of the Caris Regime and Werm Nou of the Twi'lek.

Once in the safety of the office, Erigar pushed past the guard and his bloated green form swaggered arrogantly through the room, threatening to knock over anyone who got in his way. His beady yellow eyes jumped from the Chancellor to the Senator before stopping on the two Jedi. He snorted, jerking his head upward slightly revealing two dark tusks buried under layers of flesh protruding at the sides of his mouth. "This is retribution," he growled as he approached the conference table without taking his eyes off the Jedi. Staring right at the Jedi, but not particularly addressing them, he continued, "Had the heir to the Aveniar Imperium not been murdered by the Jedi we would not be having this problem now."

"There is no proof that it was the Jedi," Palpatine replied curtly. "Besides, one political assassination does not bring about an orchestrated withdrawal from the Republic. The Aveniar had been unhappy for some time."

"Please, Chancellor, everyone knows you support the Jedi. You do not need to protect them. We know the assassin was a Force user. Only Jedi can manipulate," Erigar waved his thick arms about, "the air. The boy was crushed from the inside, not a bruise on him. Only Jedi have that power," he hissed jutting his chin out daring anyone to argue with him.

"That is a lie," Anakin said coarsely shooting the fat Senator a dark look.

Qui-Gon patiently raised a hand silencing any further outbursts from the impetuous youth.

__

It will do no good to argue with the Senator, Padawan. His beliefs are ingrained and will not bend easily.

Erigar snorted loudly. The Caris were not known for Force sensitivity and therefore they instinctively distrusted anyone, especially Jedi, who could manipulate the unseen power source.

The flourish of anger quickly passed and Anakin sank back a step, allowing his attention to fall again to Padmé who had quietly been watching and listening to the exchange.

Her look bled away and she twisted slightly in her chair to face away from the young man completely. Her attention focused on the two new arrivals that gathered at the conference table.

The politicians exchanged pleasant, worried conversation never really letting on just how shaken they really were.

Anakin often found himself amazed by the mask the Senators wore. They appeared mildly shaken but in control, inside though, he could sense the chaotic rage of emotions every one of them was struggling to hide. 

A pulse through the Force, drew the young man's attention to his master. The slight sweep of Qui-Gon's hand indicated they should withdraw. 

"Master Jedi," Palpatine said as he slowly stood. "Please, stay. An outside voice may help clearer heads prevail in these tense moments."

The elder Jedi bowed slightly. "Chancellor." 

Anakin sensed his master's displeasure at being drawn into a loyalist committee meeting. He quietly took up position next to Qui-Gon at a comfortably detached distance.

Erigar did nothing to mask his dislike of the Jedi's presence and shot them a suspicious glare before focusing on Padmé. "Senator Amidala, Chancellor, we were concerned when we heard of the attack. The audacity of these rebels."

Just as the Chancellor was about to reply, a guard appeared at the protected entrance of the office. The final arrival was Senator Muton Urot of the Udali. He quietly greeted the waiting Senators before taking his place at the large table. "I take it Senator Organa has yet to arrive?" he asked in a soft tone.

"He is in route from Alderaan," Erigar said.

Padmé quietly greeted the new arrival and settled back into her seat. She hesitated a moment and twisted slightly to look back at Anakin waiting by his master. Almost nervously, she ran her fingers over the back of her neck before setting down again.

It was wrong to smile, Anakin told himself. He knew he should not react to her beautiful eyes that occasionally turned to him but he allowed a slight upturn of his lips anyway.

Muton quickly spoke up, "Only moments ago I heard that the would-be assassins were cornered in the recycling district."

"Excellent," Palpatine breathed. 

Padmé offered the thin Udali Senator a light, relieved smile.

And Anakin felt a pang of jealousy that it was not offered to him.

There was a brief, uncomfortable silence before the Chancellor spoke up. "Certainly the Senator and myself have earn many enemies."

"Always the politician," the Twi'lek Senator, Werm Nou finally spoke up. "While it might be diplomatically preferable to blame no one until the proper evidence has been brought forth, it is not realistic. We know this is the work of the League of Secessionists. We live in dangerous times. A member of this committee," the cream skinned Twi'lek tapped the tabletop with a long fingernail for effect, "has already been murdered. Senator Irisi was one of our greatest voices. The Senate listened to him when he spoke. The Aveniar listened to him when he spoke. Irisi was the voice of reason in all this chaos. Now he is dead." He turned his attention to Padmé. "Senator Amidala here, has graciously attempted to fill the void. For that, she has become a target of the assassin. The League does not want peace. They do not want to make the Republic whole. They want war." His dark eyes swept the surrounding table studying each seated figure. "Any world that opposes these rebels' secessionist plans is brought under fire. The Aveniar are purposely segmenting the Republic by closing off shipping lanes." He turned his complete attention on Palpatine as he leaned forward against the black table. "Chancellor, the Republic will not stand divided. We must take action."

"I will not push for a war resolution solely because an attempt has been made on my life or the Senator's." Palpatine shook his head. "We must continue to negotiate." He looked over to the silent Muton. "Tell me, please, that Aveniar have agreed to restart the negotiations?"

Muton shook his head slightly. "They have refused negotiation with the Jedi mediators."

Padmé spoke up. "I have attempted to at least open a dialogue with the Aveniar but it is slow going at best."

"Because one of their kind killed the heir to the throne," Erigar snapped sending a sharp look to the silent Jedi.

"Our kind?" Anakin returned, bristling as he turned a dark gaze on the green man. Somebody ought to teach the greasy—

__

Padawan, came the unspoken but stern reprimand. 

"Your kind," Erigar repeated. "You know, sorcerers. You bend minds and make people obey your will."

Palpatine irritably cleared his throat. "Come Senator, these accusations will get us no where. There are more important things that should be discussed.

The moment Padmé leaned forward to speak again, Anakin cooled as his attention completely fell to the lovely image before him. She had her back to him but he was not too bothered. 

Her hair was drawn back in a high knot with a series of intricate braids dangling down her back. The shorter of the braids brushed against the pale skin of her neck and all he wanted was to sweep the braids to the side. Just a little push from the Force would do it. His eyes sought out the gentle curve of her back under the black jacket before it disappeared behind the bantha leather chair back. 

"With all do respect," Padmé said, "this committee was formed with the express purpose of evaluating the threat the Aveniar Imperium and its cohorts possess to the Republic."

Palpatine started to argue, "Yes, but—"

"Irisi left a very complete study on the Aveniar's activities. After confirming several of the allegations myself, I do not believe we can no longer passively stand by. They are arming for war. Action must be taken."

The Twi'lek senator brightened. "We thought the report was destroyed."

"I was given a copy for safe keeping. Irisi believed his life was in danger and he was right."

Palpatine's worn expression just stared at Padmé for a time. Then his eyes nonchalantly shifted about the room. He spoke evenly, "Then this information must be brought forward."

There was a moment of hesitation and then surprise fluttered in the young woman's eyes. "Chancellor, I forwarded a copy of the report to your office before leaving Naboo. I would offer you mine but it was destroyed in the attack."

For a long time, Palpatine just stared at her. His expression remained unsettlingly calm as his hand glided across the smooth tabletop to the built-in comm unit. He attempted to call it up, but the panel remained dark. With a frustrated grimace, he turned in his seat and sought out the nearest guard. "Private," he called out. "Go to my assistant's office and bring Miss Thelo here. Thank you." He turned back to Padmé. "I don't suppose you need an assistant?"

"No thank you, Chancellor." Then Padmé allowed a light, slightly shaken laugh. 

The simple, innocent sound was so wonderful to Anakin's ears. It reminded him of the sweet handmaiden that had been nice to him and treated him like a real person—not a slave—nine years ago.

He could not help but to note his master's growing agitation. The elder Jedi shifted slightly, folding his arms across his chest as he stared evenly out over the conference table looking at no one in particular. Anakin knew though, that Qui-Gon took in everything that was happening. Even his continuous lapses in concentration. It was so difficult with that lovely vision in front of him.

The clack of boots against the bits of debris that remained on the office floor alerted everyone just moments before the private marched back into the room. He had a rough hold of Jira's arm as he forcefully led her to the conference table. 

Jira's dull brown eyes danced wildly about the room through tousled blond ringlets. She tried to pull away but the private held her in place. 

Palpatine was immediately on his feet when he saw the frightened girl. He reached out and released the trembling figure from the iron grip. "I said bring her in, not drag her in."

"She would not come out from under her desk, sir," the guard gruffly replied. 

Anakin could not help but to notice the absolute, unbridled fear that radiated off the blond as she continued to look wildly about. 

After a moment, Jira noted everyone staring at her. Red faced she struggled to regain her composure before the committee. "Yes, Chancellor?" her voice quivered.

"Senator Amidala has graced with a copy of her report to the committee. Apparently we have had it in our possession for several days." He hesitated before calmly continuing. "Do you know anything of this?"

Jira trembled slightly. "Maybe," she whimpered.

"Why have I heard nothing about it until just now?"

"I forgot about it." She nervously twisted her hands together. Her eyes pleaded with the older man not to be angry. "You had me do the transcriptions for—"

"Fetch it," Palpatine ordered irritably, apparently no longer willing to humor the quivering mess before him. 

Without hesitation, the young woman ran from the room struggling to hold back the tears in her eyes. 

Sighing loudly, he sat back down and gently massaged his temples. "Forgive me. It has been a trying day."

"Good help is often hard to find," Erigar said sympathetically. He turned to Padmé. "That report made you the real target of the assassin. You need to expand your guard. I offer you a contingent of Calis soldiers for your protection."

"Thank you."

"I would also suggest," Palpatine quickly interjected, "that the Jedi also make their presence known."

Erigar huffed at the imagined insult.

The Chancellor turned to Qui-Gon and Anakin who had been standing there in silence. "Master Jinn, can I expect that you and young Skywalker would serve as protection to the Senator?"

Padmé twisted again, studying Anakin with a surprised look. 

Qui-Gon, followed by Anakin, bowed. The Jedi master spoke evenly, "We are at your service, Senator."

Padmé tilted her head slightly. "Again you have been called on to protect me, Master Jinn." She offered him a gentle smile before allowing her gaze to fall to the tall apprentice. 

It took all of Anakin's self control to contain the grin that was threatening to explode under the young woman's intense scrutiny. 

When Padmé glanced away, Qui-Gon took the moment to eye his padawan noting the not so subtly veiled look. 

Anakin immediately straightened with the warning pulse sent through the training bond. 

__

You are allowing your emotions to cloud your judgement.

Forgive me, my Master, was the humble reply.

The moment did not last long as his extraordinary senses were piqued by something elusive. In unison with his master, both Jedi drew their lightsabers and moved to protect the committee members.

__________________________

__

The Book of Meetings

Werm Nou twisted around nervously. "Not another attack," he half whimpered as he considered ducking beneath the conference table.

Qui-Gon and Anakin sprang forward, creating a human shield between the politicians and the office doors.

The security force looked around worriedly, unsure whether to help or run. 

The familiar and deadly hum of the blue and green blades filled the air. The lightsabers glowed brilliantly against the rich red interior of Palpatine's office. The two Jedi moved in a perfectly choreographed display as they took up position against the unknown that was quickly closing in on them. 

Qui-Gon drew back to spring but immediately lowered his guard. Anakin caught his master's response and eased back slightly but not enough that he could not react if need be.

The door swished open and two cloaked figures silently entered the room and pulled their hoods back. Obi-Wan and Bali gave little attention to the two armed men and breezed past them to approach the conference table.

Qui-Gon quickly deactivated his weapon, turning to visually follow the two arrivals. 

At first, Anakin just stood there tightly gripping the hilt as if ready to spring on them at the slightest provocation. It took the gentle touch of Qui-Gon's hand against his wrist to make him lower his weapon. 

"Ah, my emissaries have arrived," Palpatine said with obvious relief. "I trust you bring much news?"

The two bowed respectfully before the Chancellor. 

Obi-Wan took note of the mixed company and paused to choose his words carefully. "I regret to inform you that Nochian Spex is dead."

"Oh my," was all Palpatine could muster before he sank to a nearby seat. "You learned nothing?" Concern deepened the lines around his eyes.

"Very little Chancellor. He had been poisoned and was in the final moments of life when we arrived." The younger master swept his gaze around the room taking in everything at once. "He informed us of an assassination attempt, of course to late to prevent."

"They were after Senator Amidala," Anakin growled as he clipped his lightsaber to his belt and walked to the table.

Obi-Wan turned giving the young man a harsh look, then returned his gaze to Palpatine. "Master Spex seemed to believe an attempt would be made against your life."

"Are you certain?" Worry briefly fluttered across the older man's face.

"He said assassins will kill you. He also spoke of dark times on the horizon before dying."

Anakin glare at the ginger haired Jedi.

Palpatine's shoulders drooped as if a great weight had been placed upon them. "Then we are only beginning our great struggle. I fear the Republic is in its twilight years and we may be unable to save it."

His words brought a grim awareness to those in the office. 

In the silence, Bali took the moment to scan the room. They had arrived so quickly that other than the two Jedi inside he had not had a chance to study the room any better. He knew he would have to be quicker about that. It was not good to walk into a potentially tense situation blindly. Within moments, he had decided Werm Nou and Muton Urot were harmless, Padmé was all right and he decided he did not like Erigar. Something about the green skinned Calis Senator did not set well. He could feel the man's hatred for the Jedi rolling off him like a thick miasma. He cast out on the Force, seeking the other two Jedi in the room. He did not sense any threat. The older Jedi seemed to be blocking though. Finally Bali turned his attention to the Chancellor.

He had met him several times but there was just something elusive he could not figure out. His master had advised him that politicians were different. They often thought one thing and said something completely different and it made them hard to read. And the Chancellor was the ultimate politician, Bali reasoned. He looked up, slightly startled to find Palpatine staring at him with a cold expression. 

Quickly Bali withdrew into the safety of his shields and struggled to refrain from drawing close to his master for protection. 

With high heels clattering over the roughly patched floor, Jira jogged into the room as she juggled several data chips. She stumbled over the torn carpet. Her balance robbed of her, arms flailing, she crashed into Obi-Wan. 

With lightening quick reflexes, the master caught the shaken woman by her pink jacket sleeve with one strong arm and the dropped data chips in the palm of the other. 

The side of Jira's face pressed to the heavily cloaked shoulder. Her tousled blond hair dipped to one side as she looked up into pale blue eyes. There was no attempt to escape the Jedi's hold. "What pretty eyes," she breathed. Taking in a deep breath, she whispered, mostly to herself, "Amien wood." The young woman immediately realized everyone was watching her and pulled away, looking terribly embarrassed. 

Bali curiously watched the exchange. Every time they were at the Supreme Chancellor's office, that woman always seemed to hover around the older Jedi. He was not sure but he thought she liked his master. Of course, Bali was certain that his master did not like her.

"You will have to excuse my assistant," Palpatine said flatly as he pulled the leering blond away and took the data chips the knight still held, "the attack has frayed her nerves."

The Jedi said nothing but nodded slightly as he folded his arms into the thick sleeves of his cloak. 

The apprentice stifled a little frown at the action.

Palpatine took the data chips and handed them out to the committee members. "I believe we should review this information first. And meet tomorrow?"

Erigar studied the four Jedi for a moment. "Will they be present?"

Palpatine warily eyed the Senator. "Of course Senator Amidala's protection will be present."

Jira withdrew slightly but never took her eyes off the young Master.

The little padawan tried not to look at her, knowing his master would not approve. Still, Bali stole a glance.

The woman seemed to be waiting for something as she intensely studied Obi-Wan. Her lips trembled on the brink of a smile when the knight turned slightly. 

A firm warning through their bond: _Pay attention, Padawan._

The Calis Senator growled and pointed a stubby finger at Obi-Wan and Bali. "For all we know they are the ones that killed Nochian Spex."

"He was a Jedi," Obi-Wan said sternly.

Erigar sputtered as if he were going to argue the statement then quickly changed his response. "He was old and frail. I hear you kill your own kind when they become too weak to serve. Or tell me, why are there no old Jedi?" He aimed his finger at Qui-Gon. "He is the first I have seen who shows age."

He definitely had never seen Master Yoda, Bali thought.

__

Padawan.

Pay attention, I know.

"I owe a great deal to these men," Padmé said in a tone that defied argument. 

"As do I," Muton Urot said softly.

Erigar snorted, "I don't care—"

"That is enough," Palpatine barked. "It has been a very trying day and I am tired. I have better things to do than listen to some squabbling children. This meeting is over." He stood there quietly waiting for the committee to file out save Padmé and the Jedi. 

Muton paused, waiting for Erigar and Werm Nou to leave the conference table. The thin senator turned to Obi-Wan. "Master Kenobi."

"Senator," the Jedi bowed respectfully.

Then Muton turned and quietly exited behind the other two Senators.

As soon as the distraction of the senators had dissipated, Bali turned his attention back to the other two Jedi in the room. The first one to capture his attention emanated with a powerful Force signature. He had felt it before but it almost felt overbearing without the constant hum of the Force in the Jedi Temple. He knew it belonged to the apprentice, the important padawan. The one who had not been very nice to him once. The one who had told him lies about his master.

He looked to the other Jedi and was surprised to find Qui-Gon studying him as well. Although, to Bali's knowledge, he did not think he knew this particular Jedi. After a moment of quiet study, the little padawan decided he had often seen the master around the Temple. Sometimes just watching he and his master from a distance. He looked at the kind, deep blue eyes and gave the tall man a little smile.

Anakin saw the exchange and unhappily looked away.

Padmé quickly excused herself to return to her own quarters. She gathered her belongings and started toward where her entourage waited but hesitated before walking around a large area of debris. Anakin leapt to her aid, using the Force to push the fallen support out of her way. Padmé jumped and stared at Anakin in shock.

He gave her a warm, roguish grin, but did not receive the response he was hoping for when she walked on.

Palpatine ignored Anakin and Padmé as the young man tried to escort her to her waiting entourage. 

Bali watched Qui-Gon gently eye his master, but Obi-Wan seemed oblivious of the attention as he quietly spoke to the Chancellor and detailed Spex's death.

The tall, graying master just quietly stood there as if waiting for a moment of the younger man's time.

Bali thought Qui-Gon looked sad. 

__

Padawan, came a gentle prompting through the training bond.

Readily, the small thirteen-year-old turned to focus on his master and the Chancellor. 

At the entrance of the office, a Senate Security Inspector entered. The rich blue of his uniform contrasted against his dark skin. Long thin braids that were loosely tied between his shoulder blades swayed slightly as he waited patiently for the Chancellor to take notice.

"You will have to excuse me for a moment," Palpatine said as he retreated and walked over to the inspector.

Intricate silver tattoos that lined the flesh above his brows glinted in the uneven office light. The man locked eyes with Obi-Wan and tilted his head in a respectful greeting. 

The ginger haired master replied the same before turning away to allow the Chancellor and inspector privacy.

Bali fell into position at his master's side and waited patiently for the Chancellor to return. Innocently he adopted his master's quiet stance. Behind the padawan's solemn mask, he could sense the unspoken tension between his master and the other who waited just a few feet away. 

The subtle tightening of Obi-Wan's shields drew Bali's attention.

The apprentice was not worried. Sometimes his master did that. 

Master was very good about never completely blocking him through their bond. It was always open, just enough for Bali to sense the protective presence on the other side. 

"It seems the Temple is larger than I imagined," Qui-Gon said, finally shattering the silence that threatened to engulf the trio. "In five years we have barely crossed paths."

Pale blue eyes focused on the traffic lines beyond the office windows. "And yet, we still cross paths, Master Jinn," Obi-Wan answered dully without offering the elder master even a glance.

Qui-Gon frowned.

Bali desperately tried to remain motionless so not to embarrass his master. He struggled not to fidget although the training bond had been strangled almost to nonexistence. The little padawan knew it would come back in a little while, he just had to be patient. His master would not close him out forever. 

Still, he was worried. His master had never closed him out like this.

__

Master? Bali questioned silently, concern rising in him that it would not be answered. He tried not to worry. 

Master Yoda would say: "Do or do not, there is no try."

Taking a slow, deep breath, Bali released his anxiety to the Force and for a few moments felt better. He then carefully stole a glance at Qui-Gon who was just standing there as if trying to decide what to say next. 

The graying master looked down to greet Bali's stare. He gave the boy a sad smile before speaking softly. "The Senator is waiting." His gaze found Obi-Wan again and lingered on the other man's profile briefly before retreating.

__

Master? Bali called out again but received no answer through the blocked bond. After a short but impatient wait for Qui-Gon to turn away, the padawan reached up and tugged roughly on Obi-Wan's sleeve. 

The instant Obi-Wan looked down at the boy, the bond snapped open. In that initial moment, Bali thought he felt remorse, but it was gone before the he could study it further.

__

Forgive me, Padawan.

Do not do that again, Bali warned. 

Absently Obi-Wan reached out and ran his fingers through Bali's spikes flattening them to his head.

"Master!" Bali plaintively cried, as he quickly made the spikes stand back up again. 

Giggling drew the master and apprentice's attention and they turned to see Jira approaching. Her long dark lashes fluttering as all of her attention fell to Obi-Wan. "I'm sorry," she said coyly pressing finely manicured fingers to her lips as she stifled another giggle. She spoke in a soft, breathy tone, "I just always thought Jedi were supposed to be dull."

"We're hardly dull," Bali grumbled.

"Padawan," Obi-Wan quickly chastised.

"Forgive me," the youth said lowering his head to the woman.

Jira paid Bali no attention. Instead, she took a step closer to Obi-Wan. Deep brown eyes seemed to dissect the Jedi.

In an air of weariness, Obi-Wan shrugged into the folds of his cloak, drawing his arms tight in the safety of the brown material. He gave the obtrusive woman an empty, dispassionate stare.

She casually reached out to brush ivory fingers over the folded material that covered the Jedi's crossed arms. Fingers hovered before she withdrew her hand. "I just want to thank you," she said softly, only for Obi-Wan to hear.

Bali used the Force to enhance his hearing.

"For catching me when I fell."

Obi-Wan bowed his head slightly. 

"Miss Thelo," Palpatine said coarsely as he returned to the conference table. His dark eyes held a hint of menace in them as he glared at the blond. "I am certain you have plenty of work to entertain you."

"Yes, Sir," Jira replied, quickly backing away before turning and walking very quickly from the room.

"You will have to forgive her," Palpatine sighed irritably as he turned his attention back to the Jedi. "She has never been beyond the small country her family owns. Working here is a new thing for her."

"It is nothing to apologize for," Obi-Wan said coolly.

Yet, Bali was certain his master was relieved that the Chancellor ran the woman off.

Palpatine turned his complete attention to Obi-Wan. "You have always been a worthy ally, Master Kenobi."

"I only serve," was the humble reply followed by a bow.

"Yes, I suppose you do." The older man quirked an eyebrow briefly, then offered a gentle sweep of his hand as he motioned the master and apprentice to follow. "As a Naboo and as a sentient member of the Republic I am indebted to you."

"Supreme Chancellor—"

"No," Palpatine stopped Obi-Wan. "As we both know, that cloning facility you discovered on Calor V would have been the ruin of the Republic. I have recently received information suggesting Ighista Trocha was an ally of the League of Secessionists."

Obi-Wan stopped and stared at the Chancellor.

"Of course it is not widely known. Your Council will want to keep that information quiet I suppose."

Gathering himself, Obi-Wan continued to pace along side the other man. 

"You have done the Republic a great service," Palpatine said as if his earlier remarks had never existed.

"It was only through the swift actions of the Senate that the facilities were shut down. The commendation should be directed at you, Chancellor, for pushing the legislation through."

"Like you, Master Kenobi, I only serve." Palpatine laughed lightly but he still appeared quite shaken from his earlier ordeal. His voice was low in its graveness. "You were injured on that mission if I remember correctly."

"Yes," Obi-Wan said flatly.

Bali noted the tenseness in his master's aura. 

"Betrayed," Palpatine lightly pressed. 

The silence clung to the air like the dust from the earlier attack.

"The past is what it is. The future is what concerns us now," Obi-Wan said as he attempted to direct the conversation away from the mistakes of the past.

The padawan silently hesitated when his master did, and walked when his master walked. He followed the conversation but did not offer any information. His place was to remain quiet and listen, but not to interrupt.

When Palpatine's weary gaze settled on him, Bali froze. Something about the look unsettled him and sent a chill racing up his spine as he withdrew behind the protective folds of his master's cloak.

Obi-Wan handed two data chips over to the Chancellor. 

The politician studied the two small objects in his open palm. "Your findings?"

"The Calis are arming the Aveniar."

Palpatine's eyes flickered then drooped. "I see. And all the proof?"

"Is there, as well as corroboration through Master Spex's sources, I believe."

For a little while the Chancellor studied the simple black data chip in his open palm. His voice was laced with sadness. "This changes so much."

______________

__

The Book of Advancing and Retreating

The corridor outside the Chancellor's office was slightly cleaner than it had been when Obi-Wan and Bali had arrived. 

The older Jedi internally reviewed the details of the meeting he had just left. As often as he had been forced to deal with Palpatine, he had never been able to get past that elusive feeling of distrust. 

Palpatine was a politician and that was reason enough. There was always an ulterior motive to even the most innocent of actions.

There was a price to pay for successfully completing most of his missions. It had earned him the Chancellor's regard and made him number one on the politician's request list. 

The Master was weary of dealing with the politicians and the dark underbelly of Republic politics. It had been over a year since he and his apprentice had mediated anything simple like a labor dispute. 

The Republic was faltering and the Jedi were racing about the galaxy attempting to patch small leaks in a quickly decaying dam. 

He folded his arms into the billowing sleeves of his cloak, fighting back a chill.

As they walked quietly through the office building, Obi-Wan glanced down at the dark haired apprentice with the ginger flame tipped padawan braid.

While they were before the Council, Obi-Wan decided that he would request some down time. Bali was starting to fall behind in his studies and needed to return to the normalcy of Temple life.

The apprentice glanced up and gave Obi-Wan a small smile.

The master returned the weary smile and pulled his cowl over his head, noting that Bali mimicked the action. "Something bothering you, Padawan?"

"A great many things, Master." The boy fell into silence not offering to speak of the things that troubled him.

Obi-Wan had noted his padawan's reserve. The boy had been quiet most of the short trip back to Coruscant. He had slept some as well as meditated and studied, but had for the most part kept to himself.

Worry had clouded the master's thoughts ever since Nochian Spex had whispered in the apprentice's ear. Obi-Wan had felt the sadness and worry edge into the padawan's aura and felt helpless to do anything about it. 

"Master Jedi!" Jira's loud cry wafted through the corridor, slicing through the Jedi's thoughts. "Please wait up!"

Luckily for Obi-Wan the large hood masked the pained wince as he turned to face the clumsy blond running toward him.

Her high heels dug into the floor snagging on bits of debris as she barreled up to the cloaked figures. 

Using the Force, Obi-Wan gently buffered Jira's erratic path so she would not lose her footing and need him catch her again.

"The Chancellor forgot to give you this," she said as she held up a data chip. "He said your Council will be expecting it. The chip contains the record to the official inquiry of Senator Irisi of Tamboa's death."

Some instinctive part of him felt like drawing up his shields in the woman's presence. 

The Jedi met Jira's almost probing gaze with a serenely impassive look. Under the scrutiny of her gaze, he always felt like a laboratory experiment being dissected. 

"Thank you," Obi-Wan replied formally as he reached for the chip when Jira's jog came to an abrupt stop. Her high-heeled shoes snagged on the carpet and she stumbled but Obi-Wan's gentle manipulation of the Force she did not fall. 

The chip bounced across the tight gray weave of the floor.

With a small sigh, Obi-Wan knelt to pick it up. He tried not to visibly notice the garish yellow shoes that took a tiny step closer. When he stood, Jira was hovering just inches away. Casually, he retreated a step, desperately needing space between he and the woman.

Unperturbed, Jira took another step forward.

A ripple of childish laughter danced through the training bond with Bali.

__

This is not funny, the Jedi silently warned.

Jira never even glanced in Bali's direction as she leaned forward slightly. Her brightly painted lips turned upwards in a devilish smile as thick eyelashes fluttered just for the Jedi Knight.

"Is there anything else?" Obi-Wan asked, hoping there was not. He was tired and not in the mood to deal with the flighty assistant.

The blond gave a teasing little frown as she made an unhappy face the moment the Jedi tried to retreat. Without hesitation, she chased after the two brown cloaked figures.

Obi-Wan tried to pick up the pace, but Bali was working hard not to drag behind. So he slowed to allow the apprentice to catch up, but it only allowed Jira to move in and block his exit.

"So what do Jedi Masters do in their free time?" Jira asked then slowly drew her tongue over her rich red painted lips.

The Jedi stared at her dully as he sought out another escape route. "Meditate," came the flat reply.

"Oh." A look of disappointment fluttered across her face. A look of determination glossed her features. "Don't you ever just take in the Coruscant sights? Sit down to a long candle lit meal? Stroll in the moonlight?"

"My time is quite limited."

"Oh." Carefully she leaned a little closer taking in the mild fragrance of amien wood that clung to his cloak. "No time for even for a little tumble?"

Obi-Wan looked at her dryly.

Bali just looked confused.

Shifting to better see Obi-Wan's hidden face under the cowl she purred softly. "Your little apprentice said Jedi were not dull."

Bali snorted as he tried not to stare at Jira's advances.

Yet, the soft tone of her voice was reserved just for Obi-Wan. "A big, strong Jedi with all those special powers," she breathed. "I have always wondered what you would be like in bed. I bet it would be spectacular."

Bali's eyes widened.

Pulling at the edges of his cloak and weary of being subjected to Jira's advances, Obi-Wan spoke in a slow, deliberate tone and he gently waved his hand. "There is much work to be done. You should tend to it."

The young woman's eyes glazed over as she repeated, "There is much work to be done. I should tend to it."

"You should go."

"I should go." She turned and walked back toward the offices.

"Come, Padawan," Obi-Wan said calmly as he returned to his journey.

For a while, they walked in silence. Then Bali spoke up. "Master?"

"Yes, Padawan."

"Was that considered proper?"

"Probably not." Obi-Wan sighed.


	2. 

The Book of Temple Ghosts Part I

__

"Master Jinn, please, I have another question."

"Bant," Qui-Gon said dully as he tried to push past the Mon Calamari padawan out of the doorway she blocked with great determination.

"But I have a question." She smiled broadly pressing her hands tight against the frame. "If you would just go with me to the sparring rooms." 

Qui-Gon silently noted the desperation in Bant's attempt to lure him away from the small corridor he was presently trying to enter. "Padawan Eerin." It took all of his self-control to keep the irritation out of his voice. 

"Padawan Eerin," he repeated irritably. "You will move or I will have a talk with your master about your obstruction of my journey."

Bant frowned then grinned wildly. "We should go and talk to her right now!"

The Jedi Master just stared at her. Slowly he folded his arms over his chest and huffed irritably. Then slowly he started to withdraw from the doorway. 

The padawan loosened her grip ever so slightly at the sight of the retreating master.

Turning with lightening quick reflexes he grasped her salmon colored wrist and whipped the girl out of his way. The padawan let out a surprised cry as she was roughly pulled behind the master when he stormed down the hall.

"You know," Bant continued quite loudly, "I think we need to have a long talk with my Master, let's go—"

"Be quiet," Qui-Gon demanded as he roughly palmed the first door open.

Standing there in the small storage closet, Obi-Wan straightened slightly never taking his gaze from his master. His upper torso was bare and he held his rumpled tunic in his grip but made no attempt to finish dressing.

"Just as I thought," the agitated master growled as he spied the figure standing behind his apprentice. Not that he had ever doubted his suspicions. "Padawan Keizian, present yourself."

Obi-Wan remained perfectly still, keeping himself protectively between his master and the cowering figure behind him.

"Padawan," Qui-Gon said evenly.

"It is all right," came the soft voice of Halla Keizian as she stepped out from behind the twenty-year-old. 

She barely rose to Obi-Wan's bare shoulder and looked awkward wrapped in his oversized cloak. "Master Jinn," she said humbly as she lowered her gaze to the floor. Her short, brown hair brushed gently against her fine cheekbones. 

Humility was not going to save them this time. His gaze never left Obi-Wan's. "Maybe I was wrong about allowing this little distraction to go on as long as it did without intervening. When I said to end it, I meant it."

Obi-Wan tried to argue, "Master—"

"Be quiet!" Qui-Gon barked as he folded his arms across his chest.

Bant peeked around the folds of the master's cloak into the room where Obi-Wan and Halla were cornered. She gave her friend an apologizing look. 

The young man nodded in return.

"Padawan Eerin you will return to you quarters."

"Master Jinn—"

The tall master twisted, glaring at the Mon Calamari. "You will do as I say, your master will be informed of your coercion with this."

"Sorry, Obi," she said softly as she quickly withdrew under the master's cold glare.

"You did not have to treat her like that," Obi-Wan said evenly, showing little fear of the upset master.

As soon as Bant had fled the scene the master turned his considerable attention to the two silent padawans. "As usual you are two busy thinking about yourself—"

"Master—"

"Be quiet!" Qui-Gon demanded with such fire in his voice that the young man withdrew a step. "You both have been warn about these flirtations. Now you have gotten Bant in trouble."

"Master—"

Qui-Gon raised a hand silence the youth again. "Padawan Keizian," he said coldly, turning on the nervous girl. "You will dress and return my apprentice's cloak to him. Then you will return to your quarters. I will inform your master, who is also looking for you, of your whereabouts." Turning back to Obi-Wan. "Grab your belongings and step out into the corridor, now." He gave no room for argument.

Obi-Wan stepped out into the corridor with his master and palmed the door closed behind him. His gaze lingered on the dull surface as he pulled his tunic on.

"This childish indiscretion—"

The apprentice shot him a hurtful look but said nothing.

Yes, this was a natural act between padawans. At some point they all explored, but a good master would make sure that it did not last long or distract from their studies. He just could not understand the boy's need to disobey him. Not for something as trivial as a childish flirtation. 

The door softly slid open and Qui-Gon decided he would have plenty of time to think about it later.

The short, dark haired girl stepped out into the hall and handed Obi-Wan his cloak. She said nothing but kept her eyes to the floor.

For all of her humility, Qui-Gon knew the girl was problematic. She had a history of being censured by the Council for ignoring protocol and doing things her way. 

She was a bad influence.

Only direct confrontation seemed to get her attention. Without hesitation, the Jedi Master grabbed the two padawans by the arm and hauled them into the main corridor. 

"Master," Obi-Wan started to complain as he noted the curious looks of knights and padawans. The embarrassment high in his voice, "Master, please, let go."

Halla tried to twist round to bury her face against Qui-Gon's cloak sleeve but the master made her face forward again.

He felt a brief spike of anger through the training bond and half-expected Obi-Wan to say something but the young man did not. 

"You both think you are old enough to break the rules," the older man said gruffly as he paraded the shamed padawans through the Temple, "then you both will suffer the consequences."

_________________

__

The Book of the Changing Galaxy

The tall Jedi Master wandered quietly over to the expansive windows of the Naboo delegation's apartments. Qui-Gon Jinn stared blandly out into the bright Coruscant afternoon. He carefully eyed the heightened military and security patrols that cruised just beyond the safety of the walls. 

The apartment had been checked and the young Senator had temporarily retired down the hall to the private quarters. 

He turned slightly to see his apprentice quietly standing in the center of the common room. Anakin waited rather impatiently for the young woman to reappear. 

The apprentice turned and met his master's deep blue eyes.

Through unspoken words, Qui-Gon understood the distance in the youth's eyes.

Anakin turned away.

For a while Qui-Gon just studied Anakin's profile. 

The little boy was now a young man.

It did not go unnoticed how the apprentice looked at Senator Amidala. He would have to speak to the youth at a more appropriate time. It was another distraction that Anakin did not need. He would just explain it to the young man. 

Slowly the master turned back to the window. His thoughts drifted to the meeting in the Chancellor's office. 

The Force had sung to the older Jedi. They had no reason to ascend the great structure. No reason to see if the Chancellor was all right. He had been guided there. It left Qui-Gon to wonder for what reason. 

Was it to protect the Naboo senator as he had once before?

Or was it for that brief moment where he could face his former apprentice?

Obi-Wan had gone out of his way to avoid any contact with him in the five years since. Often leaving a room, no matter how large, the moment Qui-Gon had stepped in. 

There had been times that he had wanted just to speak with the young master. Times when he had walked through the Temple with purpose only to stop at the sight of Obi-Wan. 

He could never interrupt the ginger haired man's happiness. Every time he had seen his former apprentice, Obi-Wan was in the company of the little boy. His padawan. 

There was nothing important enough to say. He did not want to be responsible for robbing Obi-Wan of the gentle smile he offered the small apprentice. 

The padawan—Bali—had grown so much in so little time. He was no longer a frightened little boy that sought shelter behind the folds of his master's cloak. With every passing day, Bali became more like Obi-Wan, reminding the older man of the boy he had gotten to know on Bandomeer. 

The tender brush of the training bond made Qui-Gon turn to face the still waiting Anakin. His own apprentice's expression was solemn, almost sad before glancing away again. 

Qui-Gon did not allow his gaze to falter from the youth. 

His padawan.

The Chosen One.

He could see that the dusty little boy from Tatooine was now the handsome young man standing in the middle of the room. Anakin had conquered the anger that had so plagued him when he was younger. Had long since surpassed the other padawans his age and the old master was having a time keeping ahead of Anakin's needs. It was not a tragedy by any means. Still, Anakin did become bored with the lessons and was known to allow his mind to wander when Qui-Gon lapsed in his teaching.

The young man's lack of focus seemed to be the last great obstacle. When he overcame that, he would be ready for his trials. Just another year, maybe two and Anakin would be the youngest knight in the Order.

Soon, the young man would fulfill his destiny. 

Allowing his attention to flow back to the slowly passing security patrols his thoughts drifted a little further as he thought of the galaxy he was going to send his apprentice out in.

Things were changing, too fast for comfort. The Senate was under attack both politically and physically. 

The Aveniar Imperium and nearly thirty home worlds and colonies had drawn a line around themselves in an attempt to succeed from the Republic. There were more worlds tilting to join the League of Seccession.

Matters were not being helped by a series of brutal assassinations of various Senators and leaders on both sides. Tensions were escalating.

The venerable Jedi master turned again to see his tall apprentice standing silently in the center of the common room. What kind of world would it be for his padawan? It certainly would be more dangerous than the one he himself ventured into upon his own knighthood. 

In the last few months alone three Jedi had been murdered simply because they were Jedi. Far to many to count had been expelled from planets. The League had instated an edict that Jedi are not allowed to travel within their space without certain permissions and those were difficult to obtain. 

They were considered spies or Ambassadors of the Republic and were no longer welcome. 

These were dangerous times.

Even within the Republic sentiment toward the Jedi was turning. 

History had taught Qui-Gon Jinn that this was the way things were. The Jedi would come under fire as they had many times in their thousand generations of existence.

They would persevere over the darkness.

The Jedi would continue as they always had.

Qui-Gon turned just as Padmé entered the common room from her private chambers. A concerned look graced her face. 

"Senator?" he asked carefully.

She folded her delicate hands together, then clasped and unclasped her fingers. "The attackers had been tracked down." There was an uncertain silence that followed. "The reports are just coming in."

"Take your time," Anakin pressed with a warm smile as he took her hand.

A startled look danced in Padmé's eyes before she took the gentle guidance to a nearby chair. "A patrol found the ship on the outskirts of the recycling sector." Again she fell into silence. "They are dead. These—these attackers—are dead!" Emotions boiled up in her as she twisted her hands together. "Someone had killed them and just left them there to be found."

"Who were the attackers?" Anakin asked as he knelt before the chair.

"They are still trying to figure that out," Padmé said dully, the stress of the day weighed heavily in her voice. Lines of distress creased her delicate features. "They were beheaded. Their heads are missing."

Anakin exchanged an uncharacteristically surprised look with his master.

"This is a very sophisticated ring," Qui-Gon said as he paced back to the center of the room. 

"We will protect you at all costs," Anakin said firmly as he eyed the Senator. "I promise."

_______________

__

The Book of Strange Company

Oblivious to the din of the cafeteria, Bant leaned forward, propping her elbows on the table. Her large silver eyes blinked and squinted slightly. She leaned back in her chair, still focused. Again the Mon Calamari Healer leaned forward. "You look tired," she finally announced. 

"Keen observation," Obi-Wan grunted between spoonfuls of sandow soup.

"Well, you know," she propped her elbows on the table again, "I trained for years to notice things like that." 

Obi-Wan paused to adjust his cloak sleeve then gave his friend a dull look before focusing on the still filled soup bowl. Sighing he went back to eating. 

"You just be stubborn," Bant huffed in mock irritation before turning her attention to Bali. The apprentice sat dutifully on the bench next to his master happily gnawing on a plate of strange purple fruits and nerf steak. She patiently waited until the boy stopped to take a breath but that did not happen. Jerking a thumb to her friend, she asked, "Is he always this grouchy?"

Bali looked up with a mouthful of food and nodded.

"Just as I thought." Ever since she and her padawan had sat down across from the boys, the healer had been struggling to lighten up the mood. She was surprised that even Bali seemed strangely solemn. But she would not ask why their last mission brought such a somber mood. 

"Let him eat," Obi-Wan whispered as he stirred the soup around the bowl. 

At first, Bant just watched before rolling her silver eyes. "He eats enough for all of us."

"I'm growing," Bali responded between mouthfuls. 

"Into a bantha," Liril, Bant's Vesian padawan responded from behind her sparse plate of fresh fruits.

Bali narrowed his eyes, then stuck his purple stained tongue out at her.

"Icky boy," Liril said as she made a face back at him.

The dark haired boy stopped and stared at the girl for a moment. He smiled devilishly before licking his palm and quickly slapped it down over Liril's.

The cafeteria shuddered to a sudden halt as a shrill cry ripped from the tiny ten-year-old.

Liril jumped up and down wailing as if she had been mortally wounded. "Icky boy! I've got boy germs!"

"No one has ever died from boy germs," Bant giggled as she handed the girl a wet cloth.

As if possessed, she struggled to scrub her hand clean. 

Bant sighed and turned back to her plate. "It will take a while to decontaminate herself."

"You will apologize to Liril for that," Obi-Wan said.

"Yes, Master." Bali grinned at the small, pink padawan with blue/black hair. "I am sorry. I do not think I have that many germs."

"Bali," came a stern reprimand.

"Sorry, Master." Bali humbly lowered his head. "Sorry, Liril."

"Icky boy," Liril growled as she flopped back down on the bench but kept a suspicious eye on the boy across from her.

Still laughing, Bant shook her head. "You just bring it upon yourself thinking like that. Liril, my sweet, some day you will understand that not all boys are icky."

"I doubt it," the little girl argued.

Playfully Bant grabbed Obi-Wan's wrist and drug his hand across the table. In the natural light from the skylights, she turned his palm up. "See, no boy germs."

"Of course not, he is old," Bali pointed out between bites of nerf.

Obi-Wan straightened slightly and frowned at the insult. "I will remember that during saber practice."

The little boy giggled. 

"Uh huh, just as I thought. You like to live dangerously," Bant teased as she continued to play with Obi-Wan's callused hand. "See? I am not screaming."

"Icky," Liril still insisted

The master pulled his hand free of Bant's salmon grip and pushed the soup bowl away. Without a word, the healer shoved the bowl back in front of him. Her playful expression gone, replaced with a sharp look that dared to be disobeyed. 

Both stared at each other for a time, then Obi-Wan tiredly took a grudging spoonful.

During the exercise of wills, the apprentices had sat there curiously watching. 

The healer turned her attention to Bali. "Do I have to make you eat too?"

Bali shook his head quickly and gulped down a berry. He gave her a purple smile. Then he turned to Obi-Wan. "Master?"

"Yes, Padawan?"

"What did that woman mean when she said you would be good in—"

"Nothing," came the quick reply. "She meant nothing."

A mischievous glow danced in Bant's eyes. "Do tell," she playfully said as she leaned forward, propping her chin on her knuckles. "Good in what?"

"Bant," Obi-Wan growled.

"Bed," Bali said quickly earning a sharp look from his master.

"Now you know I just love it when you turn that particular shade of red," Bant teased.

"But I do not know why," Bali continued, undaunted. "He snores a lot. She would never get any sleep."

"I do not snore," Obi-Wan objected.

"Yes, you do," Bant and Bali said simultaneously.

Obi-Wan twisted to face the boy next him as he pushed the soup bowl away. "We shall discuss this in private," he said evenly.

The healer shoved the bowl back into front of her friend. "Was she pretty?" she asked Bali.

"Do not encourage her," Obi-Wan ordered.

Bali just shrugged. "She sure asked Master a lot of questions."

"Is there something I should know?" Bant inquired, grinning wickedly.

"No," was Obi-Wan's short reply.

Bali made a face. "She wanted to know if Master took falls in his spare time. Why would anyone like to fall?"

"Fall?" Bant looked curiously from the boy to the still blushing master. She could not help but to laugh at the deep shade of red Obi-Wan had turned. There was no leap of the imagination to understand. Laughing so hard her eyes began to water.

Obi-Wan sighed unhappily. "Can we please talk about the weather?" 

Barely finding her composure, Bant stared at her poor, embarrassed friend. "It is climate controlled and it is not scheduled to change for days." A part of her felt bad for breaking up at Obi-Wan's expense but she truly did love that particular shade of red that colored his cheeks. "Now about this _fall_—"

"I do not want to discuss it," Obi-Wan said firmly.

Bant opened her mouth to continue to tease but stopped. Her salmon features turned a brighter shade as she held her hand over her mouth. Eyes watered terribly.

Liril looked up at the quivering figure next to her and asked worriedly, "Master? Are you okay?"

Bant's hilarity induced seizure continued unabated.

Watching dully, Obi-Wan's own composure slowly returned. Pushing the soup bowl away again, he turned his attention to his cloak. Shifting slightly, he pulled at the edges, wrapping it tight around his form. A small, almost unnoticed wince escaped. 

The padawan next to him quickly shifted his attention back to the bursting healer. 

The Mon Calamari pounded her fist against the table before finally breaking up into wild laughter. Tears streamed over her skin as attention fell to Bali. "Stop by the office later, I have some data chips for you to study."

"Bant," Obi-Wan growled.

"I am confused," Bali said.

"Good," was his master's quick reply.

Straightening herself up, she said, "She must be special if she can get past your wonderful personality to proposition you."

Obi-Wan grabbed his tray as he abruptly stood up. His tone was low and filled with warning as he spoke to Bant, "If I ever speak to you again—"

"Oh you will," Bant replied quickly, undaunted, "I am the only other person outside Bali who can stand you." She paused. "And the mystery woman."

For her trouble, she got a coarse look.

Bali dutifully stood up to join his master.

"No," Obi-Wan tiredly replied. "Sit down. Finish your meal. Take care of what you have to. I am going to be working on my reports. I suspect you need to meet with your instructors?"

There was hesitation as he stared worriedly up at his master, then the apprentice slowly complied. "Yes, Master."

Obi-Wan quietly walked away as Bali sank back to the bench and played with his food.

Just watching.

Bant dabbed the remaining tears away. "I would not worry to much about him. I would be a lousy friend if I did not give him grief on a regular basis. Besides, someone needs to shake grumpy up." She tried to smile, still a little surprised that Obi-Wan had actually walked off.

"Oh," Bali said not really understanding. Looking over to the healer, the boy whispered softly, "I do not think he has been feeling very well."

"I know."

___________________

__

The Book of Quiet Conversations

Two silent masters stared down from the safety of an upper level walkway. For some time, they had just studied the ebb and flow of Jedi moving through one of the Temple arteries. 

Master Na'tho, the elderly initiate supervisor, straightened slightly the moment Bali Tiro existed the hall leading from the cafeteria. His gentle eyes followed the padawan through the tide of varied cloaks. 

Bali quietly ducked and dodged the larger forms that seemed oblivious to the boy's movements. 

The old master reached curiously out on the Force and lightly scanned the apprentice. His mental probes slid off dense shields. After a moment of trying, he was content to just watch the apparently happy boy.

Along the wall, Bali stopped to speak to one of his age mates. Their laughter echoed through the corridor over the constant footfalls. After a few moments of quiet conversation, Bali and the other boy went their separate way. 

The initiate supervisor strained slightly to see where the boy had disappeared in the hall traffic. "He has changed so much. Hardly the little boy I taught." His words shattered the silence that clung to the sparsely populated upper level walkway.

"Hmm," was the only reply of his companion.

"I suppose you are patiently waiting for me to give in and say you were right all along?"

"Admit it you need not, know we both do."

"Prideful little troll," Na'tho growled. 

Yoda chuckled but kept his large gaze focused on the small thirteen-year-old.

At the lift bay, Bali stopped and patiently waited. Out of habit, he folded his arms into the sleeves of his cloak and lilted slightly to one side. His gaze remained empty of emotion, but indicated his total awareness of his surroundings. 

Bright green eyes flashed and Bali looked up catching the two silently watching masters. He gave them a curious smile and then turned his attention back to the action of the corridor. 

"He has adopted too many of his master's characteristics," Na'tho noted quietly.

"Stop it, we could not. Like him the boy is."

Bali twisted slightly to look up at the two wizened masters again. The look of concern that colored his features faded with the soft chime of a nearby lift door. He immediately disappeared into the small compartment.

After the apprentice had gone, Na'tho turned and silently studied Yoda's serene expression. The old supervisor lightly brushed his fingers, through his thick, white beard. He had always been curious to the ancient one's interest in Bali. 

There were so many bright stars among the boy's age mates. So many destined for great things. And yet, Yoda chose to center his attentions on the quiet child, who for so long did not seem to have a future in the Order. 

What did Yoda see so plainly that he could not?

"Master—"

"Speak no more of this, we should," Yoda said quickly banging his staff against the floor in a sudden fit. "Awaits, a hot meal does. Discuss the other children, we shall."

For a moment, Na'tho warily eyed the little green master. A certainty settled deep within him that there was much more to Yoda's little tantrum than hunger. Unwilling to challenge Yoda, Na'tho walked along side the ancient master until they reached a more secluded corridor. 

"I find it quite interesting," the initiate supervisor baited as he came to a sudden stop, "that a child born on a Corellian mining colony would have a Ximi name. After all, the Xim are not known for being too open to outsiders, let alone leaving their home world." 

"Know the origin of all children? Expect me to, do you?" Yoda asked as he stopped and craned his neck back to stare up at the tall, thin master. His large yellow eyes held a hint of challenge in them but Yoda said no more.

"No, of course not, Master," Na'tho retreated slightly. "I just thought that since the boy was of particular interest to you that you would be privy to such information.

"Ignore the child, I cannot. Taking up space in my meditation place, he always is."

____________________

The Book of the Master and Padawan Part I

__

The ancient Jedi master hobbled through the small meditation garden. The rich scent of alien flora had already begun to relax his small frame. Yoda knew he would need all the help he could get. Long discussions and arguments within the Council had given him no insight to the encroaching darkness. So much weighed heavily on his mind. The news of a possible Sith reemergence as reported Qui-Gon Jinn had unsettled him and given voice to that feeling of dread that had haunted him for so long.

Such a powerful darkness was brewing and yet, it had remained elusive to him. 

Worse, was the matter of the boy Qui-Gon had insisted on bringing before the Council.

While he could not sense the dark side of the Force, he could sense the danger in training the slave boy. The ancient one sensed Anakin was quickly becoming the center of a terrible storm. 

Yoda felt that all he could do was meditate and try to find balance in the situation. At least until the boy was returned to the Temple following whatever happened with the Trade Federation's blockade of Naboo. 

He could sense the young queen would defeat the invaders, but he knew it would not be a victory. A terrible machine had been set in motion that was destined to destroy the light.

Just as the little master approached his favorite mediation spot, he stopped. Wearily he leaned against his gimer stick staring longingly into his favorite place.

Comfortably perched beneath a yawen tree was a four-year-old boy. His dark brown hair stood up in uneven spikes. The small form saw the green master and grinned before puffing up his cheeks.

Anakin's arrival brought forth the knowledge of things that could never be.

Yoda hobbled over to the green boy and was met with a silly face.

"Belong in this garden, initiates do not," the little master said as he sat down on a root next to the boy. 

The initiate scrunched up his face and folded his arms defensively across his chest. "I stay here," he announced.

Big yellow eyes just studied the defiant child. "Hmm."

"Hmm," the initiate mocked then made another silly face and broke up laughing. "Funny creature," he giggled.

Yoda's ears drooped slightly. He cleared his throat and straightened slightly. "Know me, do you?"

"Master Yoda," came the proud proclamation.

That was a good start, the master decided. "Explain, you will, why you are here."

The boy shrugged and made another face at the master.

Yoda quickly reached out and caught the boy by the chin. "Stay like that, your face will. Then look like me, you will." The master then scrunched up his face, exaggerating the wrinkles.

A chipper little giggle filled the garden.

"Name you have?" Even though, Yoda knew all too well.

"Bali." The initiate announced as if he were unsure.

"Hmm." 

"Hmm." Bali mimicked the thoughtful expression. Then he smiled, showing a gap-toothed grin. "I stay here," he shook his head sadly, "not so scary."

"Frightened you should not be."

Bali frowned. Drawing inward slightly, he made himself look even smaller. "There was a monster," he whispered conspiratorially to the little master. "I saw it." Fear flashed in his big green eyes.

"Tell me, you will," Yoda replied gently, offering the quivering form reassurance through the Force.

Bali just shook his head.

Yoda held up his gimer stick and waved it until he had captured the boy's attention. "Protect you I will. Safe it is. Tell me you can." Even a four-year-old initiate knew he wielded his stick with power and authority and nothing would dare defy Yoda.

"It has horns," Bali said softly. He paused to look around cautiously. "A scary face."

"What is the monster doing?"

"Fighting Jedi." Bali whimpered. "Angry and afraid. Scared." He looked across to the quiet master. His bright green eyes quivered with question and worry. "So afraid."

_____________________

__

The Book of Shadows

Even the darkest night was never truly dark.

The ambient glow of Coruscant cast a soft amber light against a great, curving balcony that stood imperiously above the lively city planet at twilight. A constant, dull roar of the traffic lines echoed off the massive building.

Senate security cruised faithfully past as they did every few minutes. 

As soon as the small airborne vehicle made the broad curve around the office building, two dark cloaked figures stepped from the shadows. Their foot steps silent as they glided across the balcony to the high, protective railing. 

Darth Sidious swept the trailing edge of his cloak around with the regal formality of a politician dealing with his robes. At the railing, he tilted his head upward into the fading natural light revealing a wrinkled jaw line. "Everything is proceeding as planned." There was a slight hesitation. "Except that affair with Nochian Spex. I underestimated his resolve to live."

"The poison should have been undetectable," a mechanical voice hissed from beneath the second hood.

"Would have been for anyone but Spex. Kenobi was not entirely forthcoming with his information on the old man's death." The cultured voice paused. "We must discover what secret Spex imparted to him."

"Yes, Master." 

Another patrol passed close to the balcony but it brought no concern to the Sith lord. The patrol was blind to their presence on the secure balcony. 

"Your training has served you well, my apprentice," Sidious said flatly to the other. 

The shrouded figure bowed humbly.

"The Republic is faltering. A few more well placed deaths and it will collapse into civil war without even a push." In the end, that was the goal, Sidious decided. Set the pieces in motion and sit back while all the work is done by squabbling, greedy, war mongering politicians. 

The dark lord turned to the silent companion. Cruel eyes studied the dull black mask, an imitation of a face the apprentice wore. 

There were other matters than just causing the Republic to fall to chaos. 

Young Skywalker.

Sidious had sensed the well-concealed rage that boiled within the young man. The untapped jealousy that could easily explode into a fiery rage. Yes, the dark lord knew of the power the boy wielded. 

Knew that the time was upon him to draw it out. 

The young, Naboo senator was the key.

The boy was a weapon that he needed in his arsenal to bring down the Jedi, the only thing that stood between him and total domination.

The apprentice's mask reflected the amber glow from below, as invisible eyes seemed to study the elder man.

The apprentice was an excellent assassin with an unmatched blood lust. Unfortunately, the apprentice was also hard to control. He had not had the time to cultivate a proper apprentice like Maul.

Sidious did not trust things about the younger Sith.

When the assassin's usefulness ended, the dark lord would put the wretched beast out of its misery.

Until then, there were things to be taken care of.

"I sense that Kenobi will soon be meddling in my plans. If he interferes I want him dead, Vengier, do you understand me?"

The other twisted, revealing the smooth black mask under the cowl. The mechanically created voice hissed. "I shall destroy him," the Sith assassin replied with relish.

"Good. He has been a thorn in my side for far too long. I will not have him costing me any more time or resources." Sidious hesitated as a wicked smile glossed his partially concealed features. "Bring me a trophy of his death, my pet."

"I will bring you his heart, my lord."

_____________

Book of Flesh and Bone Part II

__

The lights of the Calor research colony did little to diminish the impact of the expansive black blanket of night that threatened to swallow all but the most brilliant of light. Stars burned brilliantly against the intense backdrop. Masa Major, the Great Father, was the large pale yellow moon that was nearing its zenith in the night sky. Just at the top edge of the satellite was a bright, white glow. Masa Minor, the Son of Light, was beginning its escape of the parent moon. 

The tiny, white moon in its quick orbit tracked across the sky. It seemed so close that Obi-Wan could almost touch it.

Of course, that required raising his arm. Something the knight was not quire sure he was capable of.

The wicked chill in the Xim night had amplified the ache in his injured body. The broken section of railing beneath him did not help. 

Obi-Wan's strength was waning and he knew if he did not try to get to safety, he never would.

A low groan escaped him, the first sound he had allowed since the fall. Gritted teeth and tightly closed eyes had kept the pained cries in check but he did not know how much longer that was possible. Not even the chilled numbness could ease the pain that raged through him. 

For a while longer, he just stared blankly at the landing platform above. No one had even come to the platform to see what had happened. It would be morning before the staff in the government building arrived. It would be some time before they looked out a window and saw the devastation below. 

Time that was quickly passing like Masa Minor over the night sky.

He could not remain. 

Calling to the Force, the knight carefully accepted and released the pain and dampened what would not go away. Then biting back the sudden sharp pain that seemed to be crushing him from the inside, he rolled onto his side. 

It was so cold. 

His cloak that was twisted around him felt so heavy and made it difficult to move. Cold, numb fingers struggled with the material to pull it free from around his legs. Tears flowed down his cheeks from tightly closed eyes. 

Blindly reaching out, he found the broken piece of rail that he had slammed into and them fallen upon and shoved it out of the way. Finding a nearby pillar, he used it to pull himself to his feet. It took all of his upper body strength to make up for the weakness he found in his legs.

Through clenched teeth, Obi-Wan grunted softly, but did not give into pain that was quickly overcoming him. 

He looked around the cargo area where he had fallen. Then his gaze swept past the pale yellow lights and up into the grated durasteel that made up the landing platform. He could make out some of the ships still waiting. 

It would be easiest just to take one of the cruisers. 

There was doubt that his strength would hold out to get him out of orbit. 

Across the cargo area, he could see a staircase. 

Tightening his resolve, Obi-Wan took a careful step forward, his grip slowly loosening on the pillar. His weight fell to his weakened legs and he stumbled, sinking to the cold floor. 

Pulling more sharply on the Force, Obi-Wan was able to bolster his strength to get back to his feet and make it to a group of nearby crates. 

Halfway there.

It hurt to breathe.

It hurt.

Just hurt.

A few more steps and he fell back to the durasteel panel floor. 

Get up.

He had to get up.

There was too much at stake to stop now.

Qin Luc was dead.

Murdered just feet from the safety of his transport. Murdered under his protection. 

Halla had betrayed him in the cruelest possible way. 

He had trusted her when he should not have.

Not that he could have done anything about it. Trocha had taken care of that.

Trocha.

The Council would have to be warned that he was not an ally and all ties with him needed to be severed. The Melorians needed to be informed that the researcher was dead. Finally, he needed to pass off the images he had taken of Trocha's research facility off to the proper authorities.

Get up.

Obi-Wan was almost to the stairs before his legs gave out and he hit the hard steps. A soft groan escaped. Slowly he twisted around to look up the steep staircase that led back up to the landing platform. 

Hope drifted away at the sight of a large section of debris embedded toward the top of the staircase. In the twisted mass of wreckage, Obi-Wan could just make out the insignia and blue stripe that had once been a part of his ship. 

He sank against the cold steps. 

A soft whirring from the edge of the area drew the knight's attention. Obi-Wan raised his head slightly to see a cargo lift slowly descending into the storage area.

"Man, I thought you were dead." The voice of the unrevealed rider called out into the silent night air.

Obi-Wan raised his head slightly higher to better see a dark dressed figure. He did not sense a threat and even if he did, he could not actually respond to it.

"She was right, you are hard to kill," the man said as he stepped off the lift and slowly approached. 

"What?" Obi-Wan strained to study the approaching figure. 

A dark skin man approached. 

A pilot, or pirate, the weary knight decided when he spied two blaster holsters barely concealed under the man's jacket.

The man stopped, turning slightly to listen to something, his long, thin braided hair snagged on his shoulder. 

Obi-Wan let his head sink to the steps. 

Slowly the man turned his attention back to the fallen knight. The platform's yellow lights caught the intricate silver tattoos that graced his forehead. 

A Golian.

A pirate.

The man approached the injured Jedi without fear and knelt down next to him. His dark eyes studied the barely conscious figure. He gave a roguish grin. "Name's Ekaro Kinyo and I am at your service."

The knight half groaned, "I don't—" 

"Have too much of a choice," Kinyo said as he pulled Obi-Wan's arm across his shoulder and carefully hauled the Jedi to his feet. Then he started to lead Obi-Wan back to the lift. "I am in the private employ of Halla Keizian."

Obi-Wan tensed.

"I take care of getting the supplies for her personal projects around here." He laughed as he helped Obi-Wan onto the raised cargo lift platform. "Seems you were her newest pet project. She wanted you off the planet and as far away from that jealous husband of hers."

"Halla is dead," Obi-Wan said softly as the lift raised up to the landing platform.

"That may be so, but she paid in advance and I am not in the habit of breaking contracts. Besides, that Force witch will probably haunt me if I tried."

Obi-Wan gave a weak laugh.

Kinyo twisted around and the knight froze.

Qin Luc still lay where she had been murdered.

"Nothing you can do for her," Kinyo said softly. 

"I should at least see that she is returned to her people," Obi-Wan argued, refusing to move.

"They will find her in the morning. Dead, she is of no use to them and they will send her back to her people without argument. Trust me, that is the way things are done around here. They won't do anything to stir up anymore attention than they have too." Kinyo made the knight start walking toward the waiting ship.

They did not get very far before Obi-Wan tried to pull free. 

"Halla," the knight breathed but Kinyo stopped him from going to her side. 

Obi-Wan noticed the deep blue robe Halla wore was still twisted around her body. A dark trail of blood ran from where she had been repeatedly shot to where she had crawled to before collapsing. He dark hair blew in the slight breeze.

"You know as we both do, that we must get going," Kinyo urged, pulling the knight roughly toward the waiting ship.

Obi-Wan never took his eyes from her. He just wanted to cover her up so she would not lay there exposed to just everyone who cast a glance in her direction. One pale, perfect arm reached across the platform toward the broken railing. 

"The Xim will find her in the morning," Kinyo urged. "They will take care of her. Give her a proper funeral."

The Jedi did not possess the strength to free himself of Kinyo and was led to the safety of the small transport. 

_____________

__

The Book of Thoughtful Gifts

"Honest, that is what Master Windu did!" Bali exclaimed seriously but could not keep the grin in check and quickly broke up into laughter along with the taller boy he walked with. 

"Sure." his friend, Awar, laughed as they walked down the residential hall. "I will believe that the day I sprout wings and fly around the Council chambers."

Bali giggled as he adjusted the strap of the workbag that hung off his shoulder. "I would rather see Master Windu fly around the Council chamber."

"You are bad!" Awar teased, playfully taking a swing at the smaller boy.

The dark haired apprentice dodged the swing and came to a stop in front of his apartment door. "Master expects me to be studying when he gets back. I am behind in my work. I did not really study while I was gone."

The tall, red headed padawan eyed Bali suspiciously. "Master He will not be happy when he finds out."

"He's never happy." Bali twisted around slightly. "I will just tell him I did not understand the work."

"Did you?" Awar asked softly.

Bali just shook his head. "Master keeps trying to help me, but it is still hard." He sighed as he fell back against the wall and banged the heel of his hand against the side of his head. He frowned sadly. "I heard if I did not get picked when I did I would never have become a padawan."

"You know you are not supposed to listen to rumors, especially silly ones like that." Awar studied the unhappy look on his friend's face. "Want to go to the pool?"

"You have homework and I have homework. 

"Remember what happened the last time we skipped it for swimming?"

"We got grounded for a month," the other boy laughed.

"You got grounded for month," Bali quickly clarified. "I was not the one stupid enough to splash his master when he came looking for me."

"Oh. Who knew Master Pen'Uato did not like water."

"Everybody." Bali palmed his door open. "I will go swimming tomorrow."

"If you are here," Awar half complained. "How come you get to go on all the cool missions and I am stuck in the Temple?"

"Just lucky I guess."

"If I had your master, I would be lucky too."

Bali gave a little grin and stepped into the apartment allowing the door to slide quietly closed behind him. He stood completely still until he felt his friend wander down the hall to his own apartment. 

Safe within the confines of the living quarters he shared with his master, Bali carried his little bag into his small room and tossed it on the desk. He stood there for a moment studying the brown material but made no attempt to open it. 

It would just give him a headache if he tried. 

He would do his homework later. 

Maybe.

Turning his back on the work he crawled up on the sleep couch. For a long time, he just quietly studied his room. It had been over a week since he had slept in his own bed and was happily looking forward to the night. 

His senses were open as he listened to the comfortable silence. Casting out carefully, he decided his master had not been there since before lunch. 

Bali knew he would have to apologize when the chance offered itself. He did not understand why his master got upset and left. Healer Bant had tried to reassure him it was all right, but the apprentice still felt bad. He just wished he understood things better, then he would not ask silly questions or say the wrong thing at the wrong time. 

A loud sigh escaped the little boy. 

His gaze continued to sweep the small room, finally settling back on his desk where his lightsaber was. The sight elicited a small smile. He had cleaned it en route back to Coruscant from the wet muddy world they had left behind. It looked as good as it had the day he had completed it, which was not all that long ago.

A chill raced down his spine as the thought of the dying Tomenaar jumped to the forefront of his mind. He wrapped his arms defensively across his chest. 

Desperately Bali pushed the memory of the old man's words back. He did not want to think of the _prophecy_ that had been imparted to him. 

Quickly seeking the pocket on the side of his utility belt, the padawan pulled out the river stone his master had so quietly given him. Bali completely focused his attention of the stone. It was curious, the boy decided. He knew that his master had slipped it into his hand while sleeping but the Jedi had said nothing about it since. 

Carefully he turned it over in his small hands studying the line that encircled it where the stone had once been broken. He traced the small crevice before allowing the stone to rest in his open palm again. Instinctively, he sent a pulse on the Force to the stone.

To his surprise the previously unnoticed veins in the stone gave a soft red glow.

Bali shook his head in confusion. He had seen his master studying the stone many times. It seemed important to the older Jedi for some reason. 

The stone also seemed to make his master a little sad too, Bali thought.

He still did not understand why his master had given it to him. 

Carefully the boy laid the stone down on the sleep couch in front of him and just studied it for a long time. 

The apprentice did not know if he should question his master about it or just wait.

Whatever he decided he knew he would take care of the stone. He carefully picked it up and cradled it in his hand. He would make sure that it was there in case his master ever needed it back.


	3. 

__

The Book of Painful Truths

The healing center had been relatively quiet all day. Not for the lack of patients, as there were always padawans filling the waiting area with practice injuries. 

It was quiet because Bant had the afternoon off.

Master Healer Dirad breathed in contentment as he walked through the exam room corridor. He looked forward to some uninterrupted time doing research. There were several padawans and a number more of healers taking care of everything so unless there was a major emergency–

The hand that clung tightly to a data pad fell to Dirad's side. His dark eyes stared into the exam room he had stopped in front of. He leaned back and stared down both directions of the corridor before looking back in. "Bant is not here and I don't see Bali so you must be lost," the master healer said as he stepped into the small room where Obi-Wan sat silently.

Receiving the answer he expected–none at all–he palmed the door closed behind him. The yellow skinned healer pressed a thin hand to Obi-Wan's forehead. He grumbled something incoherent before he turned his attention back to the data pad he carried. "Was it a cut?"

Obi-Wan nodded.

"I cannot examine it if you do not bare it."

The younger man sighed and loosened his tunic, pulling it and his cloak free of his shoulder. He twisted slightly allowing Dirad easier access to the red rimmed gash across his shoulder blade.

The healer called on the Force and probed the torn, irritated flesh. He debated whether or not to say something to the Jedi but decided against it. There was nothing he could say that Obi-Wan did not already know.

Nothing he could say would change what was.

For a time, he just quietly went about cleaning the wound. He would at least do what he could to help the cut heal.

Obi-Wan winced against the gentle cleaning.

Dirad paused before returning to the work at hand. "She knows," he said flatly.

Still, Obi-Wan said nothing.

"She regularly checks the records when you return from a mission. She will know you have been in here."

"I do not pretend to hide anything from her."

"Good, because you would be stupid to do so." Again the healer paused when Obi-Wan growled with the application of antiseptic. "You know, she has spent the last several years studying Force healing. Soon she will be a master authority on it."

Obi-Wan remained silent.

The Master Healer sighed and continued to tend to the gash, his gaze studied the lines and knots of scars that covered the younger man's shoulder and flowed down his back and arm. "We can remove some of those scars–"

"No," Obi-Wan said flatly, quickly crushing the suggestion.

Dirad quirked and eyebrow but did not hesitate as he covered the wound in a bacta soaked bandage. "If this is not showing any signs of improvement in the next two days, I expect to see you back here. Do you understand?"

Obi-Wan nodded slightly. 

"Otherwise, how are you feeling?"

"Same as usual."

In other words: No improvement.

As soon as Dirad had finished his work, Obi-Wan pulled his tunic neatly back into place. He then carefully worked to adjust his cloak warmly around his frame.

After cleaning up, Dirad picked up his data pad and leaned against the counter while he quietly made some notes. A dour expression danced over his features as he glanced across at the younger man. He mumbled something and added another notation. He looked up again. "What part of 'do not Force heal anyone' did you miss?"

Obi-Wan straightened defensively. "Master–"

"I can tell because I can," Dirad said flatly as he stared over the data pad. A fire lit his dark eyes. He had not known, merely guessed, but Obi-Wan's reaction divined the truth.

The Jedi glared at Dirad suspiciously. Frustration moved deep in his pale blue eyes. "Bali has to walk around like an accident. It is not fair to him." Obi-Wan stood up and paced around the small, sterile room.

"Nor would it be fair to the boy if his master kills himself because he is infuriatingly stubborn," the master healer said sternly. Dirad stopped his examination of a data pad and stared up at the other. "Sit down, you are giving me a cramp in my neck. Sit!"

Obediently, Obi-Wan returned to the edge of the exam table.

"Listen to me," Dirad warned, "no more of this foolishness."

Obi-Wan barely nodded, instead he cast his gaze down to his neatly shined boots. 

"I hope it hurt," Dirad said. 

There was a long silence. 

"Quite."

"Good," was the master healer's only response.

Unhappily, Obi-Wan tugged at the edge of his cloak. He slipped from the exam table. Shrugging a little more, Obi-Wan went to the door and paused. "Thank you, Master." He did not look in the other man's direction, instead reached for the control panel.

"What you did," Dirad said quickly causing Obi-Wan to hesitate again, "saving Master Jinn, was something spectacular. I cannot put it any other way. Nor do I say this to encourage you. We were not meant to burn so bright to heal a mortal wound. Small injuries, yes, but not like the wound you healed."

"I did what I had to."

Dirad studied the younger master for a time. "I am not saying what you did was right or wrong. I am saying that as beings we have limitations. I know when you are young and foolish, you think you can do anything and live forever. The truth is it is not so."

"I know that–"

"Don't interrupt me." Dirad straightened slightly and shook the data pad threateningly at the Jedi. He stopped and checked his notes again. "You were very lucky."

In a slightly agitated motion, Obi-Wan shoved his hands deep into the folds of his sleeves. "How do you figure?" he asked sharply. 

"I am sick with chills all the time. I am cold even on desert worlds. I cannot even heal a little cut on my padawan's forehead without pain and illness accompanying it."

"You could be dead," Dirad replied evenly. "You could still be in a vegetative state. Suffered more severe neurological damage that you did. I would say you are quite lucky. Very few get off as easily as you did."

Obi-Wan just frowned. 

______________________

__

The Book of Dangerous Plans

The holo image of Bail Organa flickered and shimmered before evening out. "You cannot request the Jedi's help on behalf of the Senate without Supreme Chancellor Palpatine's express consent."

"Then we will carry this out without the Jedi. That just may be the advantage we need." Padmé said formally as she pressed her hands to the smooth wood of the elegant desk in her private office.

Senator Organa looked thoughtful for a moment. "Agreed." He hesitated momentarily, then turned slightly as if to eye the young woman who intently watched the display. "Who do you intend to sucker into leading this diplomatic envoy?"

Padmé just smiled.

His expression tensed. "Senator Amidala–"

"You would be perfect. Everyone trusts you, even the Aveniar."

"You have too much faith in me," Organa replied.

"It is well placed."

Organa glanced at something beyond the holo image. He nodded to an unseen interloper. Frowning, the regal visage returned his attention to Padmé. "Forgive me for cutting this message short. I will consider it."

"You already have."

"Yes but that is for another meeting."

"Of course, Senator," Padmé smiled as the image completely shimmered out. 

Safely alone for the moment, she sank back into her tall backed chair and sighed loudly. Her weary gaze swept across the cluttered desk but she did not have the energy to straighten up the work. It would only fall into disarray again, so why try?

Had she known politics required so many forms and documents she would have found an easier occupation. Nerf herding, for instance. 

The part of her that was still young and foolish giggled at the thought.

Slowly she rose from behind her desk but only took a few steps before stopping. Beyond the transparasteel dividing panel, at the far side of the luxurious suite she saw the Jedi apprentice quietly studying the hyper movement of the traffic outside.

He did not look anything like the little boy she had met on the sandy planet of Tatooine. There was no cherubic innocence in his expression. 

The tall–very tall–youth remained still but she sensed he took in a million moving objects at once. Completely aware of everything around him.

Even her not so polite stares.

The youth turned and locked eyes with her. 

Padmé blushed and looked away.

Embarrassed by her reaction she straightened and turned her attention back to the young man. He was still watching her.

There was something about the way he looked at her.

It made her feeluncomfortable.

There was gentleness in his smile.

The young woman frowned, knowing she could not continue to just stand there. Marching swiftly into the common room she glanced around hoping Master Jinn was nearby.

"He is patrolling the corridors," Anakin said plainly as he turned his gaze back to the sunny afternoon.

Padmé tensed wondering if he had read her mind with one of those Jedi mind tricks. "Oh." After a moment of silence she relaxed and walked slowly toward the couch. Eyeing the young man again she carefully sat down in the middle of the small seat. Her nervous hands folded into her lap. "I can hardly believe nine years have passed."

The apprentice turned slightly to stare at the side of the Senator's face. "When I look at you, there has been no gap in years."

"But you are no longer a child," Padmé said without glancing over at him. "Your mother must be proud."

There was a long silence.

Padmé stared at Anakin. 

Quiet thoughtfulness graced his handsome features. 

"I'm sorry." The urge to rise to her feet hit her. She was crossing the distance of the room without thinking about it.

"Don't be," Anakin said facing her.

Padmé stopped and stared up into his bright blue eyes. To her surprise her breath hitched. "Have you seen her since leaving–"

"No," Anakin breathed.

The Senator of Naboo wavered slightly. "Why?" 

Anakin did not immediately answer.

Briefly it occurred to her that she was probably asking too personal of question for having just met the young man again. Her cheeks flushed again.

"It was not considered wise," Anakin said softly as he shifted, his eyes searching hers.

It felt like he was staring straight through her. 

"Wise?" Her breathing seemed so shallow.

"The Council felt contact would disrupt my training."

"Oh." He had such bright blue eyes. She could get lost in them. The way he looked at her. His gaze caressed the soft lines of her neck. Instinctively she reached up as if to protect the tender flesh. Snapping out of her daze, she turned away. Her voice quivered even as she struggled to regain her composure. "Do you miss her?"

Anakin frowned. "All the time."

"That is so cruel."

"It is their way."

"It's not a very good way."

__________________

__

The Book of Quiet Lessons 

Bali walked silently into the Council anteroom where he found his master standing silently off to the side. The older Jedi appeared to be in meditation so Bali quietly found his place next to Obi-Wan. 

He folded his arms into the billowing sleeves of his cloak just like his master and waited. Taking in deep, slow breaths he relaxed finding a quiet serenity. He knew he should enjoy it while it lasted, as the moment he entered the Council chamber he would lose that bit of peace. 

The circle of masters always made him nervous. Although he knew many of them outside the chamber, it was different inside. 

Feeling a gentle gaze upon him, Bali looked up to meet his master's weary eyes. 

"Are they sending us on another mission?" the apprentice asked softly. "I was going to go swimming with Awar tomorrow." 

"I will not speculate on what the Council has summoned us for," Obi-Wan said dryly as he turned his attention to the chamber doors. "Neither should you," he stressed. 

"Of course, Master." Bali frowned. "We just got back." 

Obi-Wan looked down and studied the boy's questioning face. He sighed softly. The Jedi master looked down at the boy who stared up with a questioning look. "I also hope we will not have a mission. I too have been looking forward to some rest as well." 

The thirteen-year-old smiled then turned his attention to the floor. Carefully he drew his boot toe along the intricate tile designs. "Master?" 

"Yes, Padawan?" 

"I am sorry if I said something I should not have during lunch today." He knew he would not feel good until he got the words out. 

Obi-Wan's staid expression softened as he studied the boy's down cast expression. "There are some things that are better left to be asked in private. And there are some things that should never be said in front of Healer Bant." 

"Because she likes to give you grief." 

"Yes." 

Confusion glossed the youth's features. 

"How will I know?" 

Obi-Wan paused to consider how to answer. "If you have doubts wait until you can ask it privately." 

"Yes, Master." 

The door to the Council chambers opened and an older Twi'lek padawan ushered them into the chamber before quietly exiting and closing the doors behind her. 

Bali shadowed his master as they walked into the Council chamber. He could feel the gentle caress of the masters as they lightly probed his shielding. Instinctively he tightened it slightly, leaving only the thinnest thread between he and his master. 

He felt the flow of soft reassurance through their bond. 

Without prompting he bowed before the masters but remained quiet as his own greeted the Council to silently nodding heads. His gaze swept across the passive stares of several of the masters. Finally settling on Yoda's large, sleepy eyes. 

The little green master offered Bali a gentle smile before returning to the seriousness of the moment. 

Mace quirked a brow before speaking. "Master Kenobi. Padawan Tiro." 

Bali had long ago learned that he was not afraid of Master Windu although most of his friends were. He had gotten to know the respected and feared master outside the Council chambers and liked him a lot. 

Master Windu was actually quite funny. 

It took all of the padawan's self control to keep a smile from taking control of his lips as he thought about the time the respected Master helped him to– 

__

Padawan. 

Sorry, Master. 

Master had not been too happy when that bottle of Lobigarian berry juice exploded all over him. He never entirely got the purple stains out of his cloak. 

Mace continued oblivious to the silent conversation. "We have not had a chance to fully review the official inquiry sent by the Chancellor. Although we are aware of many facts about the assassination of the Tamboa Senator Irisi." 

Adi Gallia picked up. "Little of this information is new to you as you were the first to arrive on the scene." 

Obi-Wan nodded slightly. Cold seriousness reflected in his eyes. 

She continued. "At this moment a group of Senate security investigators are on the scene of another assassination. For the moment, the news of Senator Aleen Zucha of the mid rim world Lisult is being kept under wraps. At the behest of Supreme Chancellor Palpatine we are to send our own investigators. It seems there are somesimilarities between this and the Senator Irisi's death." 

Ki-Adi Mundi spoke next, his tone even and serene. "Concerned we are that a Force user was responsible." 

Mace cut in. "This assassin must be found." 

"Yes, Master," Obi-Wan obediently answered. 

Bali kept the unhappy frown in check. There goes swimming, he thought dully.

_________________

The Book of Temple Ghosts Part II

__

"Do not look at me like that, Padawan," Qui-Gon said sternly without even glancing at the other figure in the small apartment. He patiently turned and palmed the front door closed before bringing his full attention on the apprentice. 

Obi-Wan said nothing.

After a time, the younger Jedi broke the gaze and started toward his room.

"You will not walk away," the older man said sternly causing Obi-Wan to cease his movement.

The apprentice did not turn to face Qui-Gon. "I am going to study now, Master," he said coolly.

"That should have been your concern earlier."

Obi-Wan turned quickly, the pale blue of his eyes sharp and angry. He paused, closing his eyes for a moment. Exhaling. Opening his eyes slowly, the calm having returned. His voice was soft and even, "Master–"

"Do you think I am just going to stand by while you disobey me?"

Qui-Gon folded his arms and studied the unhappy look of the young man standing across from him. Daring the padawan to challenge his authority.

Again, a long silence held its place between the two. 

"You did not have to drag us through the Temple like fighting initiates."

"If you would not act like a troublesome initiate I would not have to treat you like one."

"You are not being fair."

"Master." Qui-Gon said evenly. "You are not being fair, Master," he sternly corrected. 

Obi-Wan said nothing. Instead he tugged at the edge of his cloak as if impatiently waiting for the punishment to be meted out and he could go about his way.

The Jedi Master was not so swayed. His padawan's infatuations had come and gone without too much trouble but this relationship with the Keizian girl was out of control. He had been mistaken to allow it to go on as long as it did unchecked. But he had made amends and on numerous occasions broached the subject. 

Only later to find the two padawans together again. 

Halla Keizian hid behind a mask of humility but he knew too well that she was dangerous. 

It seemed her only goal was to disrupt his padawan's training.

The boy was very protective of her.

An attachment that could not be allowed to strengthen.

"You know good and well that such interaction is forbidden."

"You did not suffer that problem when it came to Tahl."

Qui-Gon's first instinct was to slap the boy for that outrageous remark. The girl had poisoned Obi-Wan. Inspired him to speak when it was best to keep quiet.

She would be the ruin of him. 

Obi-Wan just stood his ground.

This childish acting out had to be brought under control. After all, that was what it was, Obi-Wan was acting out.

He was a child after all.

Even if the young man standing before him did not look the part.

The baby fat was all but gone. There was no awkward teenager in the compactly muscular body shaped by a lifetime of training. The set blue eyes reflected a life that had already seen much. Callused hands that had taken life and given it hung lifelessly to his side. No reflection of the child he had once been in the wary stance.

Within the Temple walls, the young man was still a child, as long a he remained a padawan. Doomed to defer to the wisdom of his master.

And his master would not let him foolishly throw away his dream of being a Jedi.

Not over an infatuation no different that all the others that will march through the apprentice's life.

Someday it would be Obi-Wan's decision.

Just not today.

Cool blue eyes never shifted from the master as the young man took on a more relaxed posture. Still, Qui-Gon knew it was just a look, the apprentice was ready to spring into whatever necessary action.

"You know as well as I do, that kind of personal interaction is forbidden among padawans. It is an unneeded distraction." Qui-Gon clarified, unsure why he had felt it necessary to explain himself. He was the master, after all.

"I am not a child, I can make those decisions for myself."

"No, you cannot," Qui-Gon said sternly. 

"I am old enough to die for what I believe in. to die for what the Order believes in. So why I am not old enough to decide who or when I can love?"

He could see the twenty-year-old struggling to hold onto a range of emotions. He could see the confusion and hurt in the young man's eyes. The insecurity brought violently to the surface. 

"You are a padawan. It is not your place to make such decisions."

Obi-Wan huffed impatiently as he folded his arms into the billowing sleeves of his cloak. "But I am not a child."

"A matter of opinion."

Obi-Wan's shoulders slouched slightly. 

The words had hurt but Qui-Gon also knew if he softened his resolve, it would only give the boy permission to act out again. "You will not see Padawan Keizian anymore. Not even among friends."

"Master!"

"Instead of hanging around with your friends you will spend all of your free time here, in meditation, until further notice. You have not proven yourself trustworthy when it comes to the girl." He hesitated, noting the younger man's defiant look and knew he had to take measures to crush it. "I have spoken with Master Denshau and she agrees. Padawan Keizian is being given the same lecture as we speak. Be thankful, Padawan, that we are keeping it to ourselves. Should the Council intervene the consequences of your indiscretion will not be taken lightly."

_________________

__

The Book of Political Crossings

The plain, but strangely elegant hall gently curved through the massive Senate building. A warm amber glow lighted the corridor from behind gold rimmed panels giving an almost mystical glow to the ornately beaded dress Senator Amidala wore. 

Her serene features quietly studied the quiet corridor as she struggled not to finger the silver beads embroidered into the rich blue fabric.

The Chancellor was taking his time she noted as she glanced over at her security. Sirceé, the captain of her guard along with five of his men posted about and two Jedi who waited at a discrete distance. She paid little attention to the older of the two but her gaze fell to the tall young man. He gave her a warm smile.

Padmé quickly glanced away, her cheeks flushing red.

Not a good time to act silly, she mentally chastised herself.

The closed doors she stood close to flew open and a flourish of red draped figures poured out into the corridor. Their smooth red helmets glowed in the warm light as they took up position around her and the entrance into the corridor. 

The mere sight of the sweeping red figures caused her breath to quicken as she started to withdraw from their midst.

"Senator Amidala?" Palpatine asked with a hint of surprise in his cultured voice. The elegantly dressed older man glided from the shadows. "I am surprised to say the least."

"I realize that your time is precious," Padmé said quickly recovering her composure. She straightened slightly to great the Chancellor formally.

"I have all the time for you, my lady. Had I known I would not have kept you waiting out in the hall."

"This came about rather quickly," Padmé said falling into step next to Palpatine. "As you know I have continued to try to keep talks open with the Aveniar in Irisi's absence."

"Yes and a difficult task you have taken on."

"Talks must resume or we will be in armed conflict within weeks."

"Yes." Palpatine suddenly stopped, his gaze swept past the young woman to the two Jedi that quietly followed. "There has been a new complication. Word has just come in the Lisult senator has been murdered."

Padmé's eyes flashed.

"Word travels quickly," the Chancellor lowered his voice. "They were trying to keep it under wraps. Needless to say rumor and innuendo are quickly spiraling out of control." He studied Padmé's worried but questioning eyes. "The Jedi are already unwelcome among the secessionist worlds, I fear their diplomatic skills are all but useless to us now."

Padmé smiled briefly catching the surprise in the older man's eyes. "That is why Senator Organa of Alderaan has already left with a diplomatic convoy to Selis Prime. We must attempt to restart the negotiations."

"What?" For an instant red flushed across the Chancellor's face before fading back into his natural pallor. "You are taking too great a risk."

"The Aveniar representatives have already agreed to meet with the diplomatic convoy."

Palpatine just stood there silently for a long time. Then a big smile lit his face. "But how?"

"They agreed on the basis that no Jedi were a part of the convoy. In fact they were quite willing to have their grievances with the Republic brought forth."

Again, the Chancellor stood silent mentally surveying the situation. 

For a moment, Padmé thought she saw a shadow cross the politician's usually kindly features.

"I must bow to you, Senator. You have pulled off a virtual coup."

Humbly Padmé replied, "The coup, if there is one, will all be the work of Senator Organa."

"Chancellor!"

The cry elicited a wince as Palpatine turned to see Jira barreling through the corridor with an arm full of stuff. "Yes, Miss Thelo?" The calmness was barely masked.

"I think you should see this," she said shoving a data pad toward him. 

The look of irritation bled away as Palpatine silently reviewed the information. His gaze immediately met the young Senator's. "You will have to forgive me, Senator, but duty calls."

"Of course, Chancellor."

With little preamble Palpatine turned curtly and stormed off down the hall with his guard and Jira chasing clumsily after him.

Padmé just stood there for a moment before turning a worried look to the weary eyes of the gray haired Jedi. "Master Jinn?"

"Yes, Senator?" Qui-Gon asked calmly as he stepped forward.

Anakin looked dismayed but remained where he was.

"Did the Chancellor seemunsettled by my announcement?"

The elder Jedi was silent as he fell into step next to the young woman. He smiled gently, "He seemed surprised, I believe."

Padmé nodded as she quickly walked through the corridor. She had been proud of the achievement but the Chancellor's reaction had suddenly created worry. 

_______________________

__

Holonet Broadcasting Company

"sketchy reports are coming in now. Senator Aleen Zucha of Lisult has been murdered. Senate security personnel have cordoned off a sector in one of the Coruscant's lower levels. The body was found in a private club.

"Senator Yarlsbac of the Adamere Federation has stated that the Republic has lost a great leader and his memory should not be tarnished by rumor and innuendo."

________________________

__

The Book of Girlish Conversations

Something had coiled itself tight around Padmé's thoughts as she quietly returned to her office. Occasionally she would glance back at the two Jedi that followed at a distance.

The younger seemed never to allow his gaze to stray from her. The Naboo Senator struggled to maintain her composure. She did not want to be seen staring at the boy. Nor did she want to encourage him.

She had a reputation to maintain after all.

And more important things to worry about.

Concern that she made a grave mistake loomed heavily on her mind. Palpatine had not greeted the news as she imagined he would. Maybe she had caught him at a bad time.

He did seem quite distracted and whatever news Miss Thelo had brought only upset the Chancellor more.

Padmé slowed the moment she realized she had entered the corridor leading to her private apartments. For a moment she just stopped and stared at the guarded door. She had been so distracted by Palpatine's reaction that she had not paid attention to where she was going. Her thoughts remained with Bail Organa and the diplomatic envoy.

The Aveniar had greeted the idea of opening talks. 

Thus far the Senate had been too divided to even agree to do that. Too muddled down in the madness of politics and money to focus on the Republic's immolation.

War would be too hard on the foundering government and chaos would ensue. The only hope to hold the Republic together was in negotiated peace until a better solution could manifest itself.

Sighing loudly, Padmé approached her private door just as the guard palmed it open. With a little luck, Bail would have left her a message. Just a little note to let her know everything was all right. After all, he had promised to keep her informed of every development. 

A shrill, terrified cry made the young woman jump. Before she realized what was happening, she had been shoved behind the protective brown of the Jedi's cloaks. The warm hum of lightsabers and the clack of blasters deafened her as Anakin quickly pushed her into the safety of her apartment. "What is–"

Just beyond the young man's shoulder, Padmé saw a tangle of blond hair. She could feel Anakin relax slightly and without hesitation, Padmé pushed past him until she saw the terrified eyes of Jira staring up from where she cowered on the warm gray carpet. Data pads and flimsies lay scattered where the often-annoying assistant had fallen. 

"Put your weapons away!" Padmé demanded as she pushed past her protection to get to the quivering mass on the floor. "Miss Thelo?"

"I am so sorry," Jira rattled as she quickly tried to gather her dropped belongings.

"It is all right," Padmé said as she knelt to help her. 

"I can get it," Jira whispered with a hint of embarrassment. "You do not–"

"Yes, I do," Padmé interrupted. "My security is a little tense." She handed off a stack of flimsies back to the assistant.

Jira stood up still juggling her work. "The Chancellor sent me to deliver an apology," she stuttered.

"He did not need to do that." 

She shuffled her stuff to one arm and then roughly pushed back her long blond hair as if it were annoying her. "He felt that he was rather abrupt but he commended you. The Chancellor has a lot on his mind right now."

"As I understand," Padmé said kindly as she guided the still trembling woman past the security and the Jedi into a private area of her suite.

The blond twisted slightly, looking back at the two Jedi in the doorway and seemed rather surprised that they did not follow.

Immediately Sirceé tried to follow but Padmé waved her back with a reassuring look.

"It is all right," she said calmly as she guided Jira to a chair. 

"Senator, you do not have to–"

"Of course I do. A face full of blaster rifles on top of the recent attack are enough to frazzle anyone's nerves." The Senator found the chair across from Jira and carefully sat down, waiting until the blond had a chance to calm herself further.

"Why are you being so kind to me?" Jira asked almost suspiciously.

Padmé held her tongue momentarily until she found the words she like the best. "Because I was rather brusque with you the other day. You were only trying to be nice and I was not."

"That is what you are supposed to be," Jira said as her composure and bubbly personality started to return. "You are a senator and I am an assistant who only has her job because of a very small favor the Chancellor owes my father." The woman seemed to smile sadly. Her eyes flashed at the sight of the two Jedi in the next room speaking softly. "Don't you worry?" she whispered.

"About what?"

Jira frowned. "All the assassinations? What if it is the Jedi that are killing all these Senators?"

"The Jedi would not," Padmé replied firmly.

"But how are you so certain?" Fear reflected in her eyes as she pulled her gaze from the two men back to the Senator. "What if they are just pretending to protect you?"

Padmé laughed lightly. She twisted ever so slightly to see the two Jedi before turning her gaze back to her fellow Naboo. "Do you know who those two men are? That is Master Qui-Gon Jinn and his apprentice Anakin Skywalker."

Jira's face lit up as she turned to look at them again. "The heroes of Naboo?"

The Senator nodded. "At the time Anakin helped us when we landed on Tatooine. Master Jinn's apprentice then was Obi-Wan Kenobi."

The assistant made a face that Padmé could not quite decipher.

"I have met him," Jira replied, "several times. He is never very friendly."

"I believe he is quite reserved," Padmé said diplomatically.

"Oh." After a moment it seemed the words had connected with the woman as she pushed her hair back again. "I hope to bump into him again." She grinned wickedly. Her gaze then fell to the bright pink shoes she was wearing. "A broken heel would help." Jira broke up into a soft giggle. "Maybe he won't be so reserved around me next time."

Padmé put her hand over her mouth to stifle her own girlish laugh. "I don't think he knows how to be anything other than _reserved._"

"He just doesn't know how to enjoy himself. I bet I could loosen him up real quick."

The young senator just blushed. 

For a moment, Jira just studied the other woman curiously. Then she twisted in her seat again to look at the two Jedi in the distance. Then leaned a little closer to Padmé to whisper, "Haven't you ever considered what a Jedi could do? You know? I bet they have great stamina."

Padmé's eyes went wide and her face was a bright shade of red. "I neverI didn't think–"

"Tell me you are not a red blooded Naboo woman?"

A giggle rippled between the two. 

"I didn't think theywell you know," Padmé whispered so low that Jira had to lean in to make out the words.

"Come on," the blond prodded as she jutted her chin toward Anakin. "Do you believe that handsome creature is going to die a virgin?" Her face lit up the moment Padmé looked away in embarrassment. "Oh, you like him."

"Shhh," Padmé giggled but immediately straightened fighting to maintain the image of a serious Republic Senator. "I am hunted by potential suitors of more wealth and holdings than I can possibly imagine." Her regal expression softened when her gaze fell to Anakin.

As if aware of her thoughts, the young man turned and gave her a gentle smile.

"Here I am falling in love with a poor monk." She was quiet for a moment. When she spoke, it was intentionally blassee. "Besides, I do not believe they are allowed to love."

"What a horrible life," Jira said as she quickly sobered.

"It is worse," Padmé whispered. "He has not seen his mother since he was nine because the Jedi Order thought it would distract him from his training."

"I would die if I was kept away from my mother."

"She is still in slavery on Tatooine."

Jira's lower lip quivered. "They left her like that?"

Padmé seemed sad as her gaze returned to the blond haired Jedi. "I tried once to buy her out of slavery but the Twi'lek that owns her now posted such a high price on her that it was well over my family's ability to cover it."

"My family can afford her freedom," Jira said flatly.

"I cannot ask that of you."

"My family are humanitarians. You know that. To save the mother of the hero of Naboo? They would jump at that. Let me contact my family. We can bring her here–"

"What of the Jedi?" Padmé quickly inquired.

"They don't have to know. We do it and surprise him."


	4. 

__

The Book of Friendship

"A shard from a Seikhan corvette."

For Obi-Wan that was all that had to be said. The make of the craft had sat at the edge of his thoughts ever since the Supreme Chancellor had uttered the words. 

His gaze turned to the large windows that lined the corridor. The amber glow of the city below gave an eerie cast to the city that surrounded the ancient Jedi Temple. He stopped before a window to study the distant lights of the never-ending traffic lines. 

"It is not an uncommon vehicle," Mace Windu said as he also sought the strange comfort of the still lively city at evening.

Obi-Wan twisted, settling pale blue eyes on the senior Council member. "You and I both know it is not _that_ common."

Mace quirked an eyebrow but said nothing.

The younger master was quiet as he scanned the hall to make sure there was no one within earshot of the sensitive conversation. "There are eight dead politicians with shards from the same vehicle."

"So Kinyo's report stated," Mace said dully. "Have they traced the serial number to an owner yet?"

Obi-Wan paused, wondering what the older Jedi was hiding. "That I do not know," he replied carefully, folding himself into the layers of his cloak. "The Chancellor may make a show of being forthcoming with information but the actual act is always quite slow. I also suspect incomplete."

"I also noted the report seemed _lacking_ in places."

Again Obi-Wan turned back to the constant flow of traffic in the distance. "I do not think we can track this enemy."

"We must. Too much hangs in the balance."

Finding the assassin may decide between peace and war for the foundering Galactic Republic.

Obi-Wan sighed. "Yes, Master." 

The killer was always two steps ahead and any attempt to guess their next move was always wrong.

A part of Obi-Wan wished that he and Bali had not been mediating the dispute between Niovis Mining Corporation and the residents of Huok 3. It put them just a short jaunt from the scene of the Tamboa Senator's murder. They would never have been personally wrapped up in this mess and could go about their lives oblivious to the invisible machinations behind the scenes of the impending civil war.

He was tired from all of this but knew it was only just beginning. Things would only get worse before they got better. 

Reaching into his bond with Bali, Obi-Wan checked to see that Bali was safe and in the Temple archives. He was happy and was probably among friends.

"Master, I–"

Mace spun so quickly that Obi-Wan went silent with surprise. "Has it ever occurred to you that in casual conversation you can just call me Mace?"

Obi-Wan just looked at him.

Mace laughed as he shook his head. "How long have we known each other?"

The younger master did not answer, still confused by the sudden turn in the conversation.

"Okay," Mace said as he waved his hand in acquiescence. "Let me rephrase that. How long has it been since you were a padawan?"

"Nine years."

"Nine years," Mace repeated. "In that time you became a respected–if not feared–knight. An excellent operative but a complete pain in the butt for the Council."

"Am I supposed to argue this?" Obi-Wan asked, unsure of the conversation.

The Councilor laughed at the uncertainty in Obi-Wan. "You have done wonders with your padawan's training."

"He is an eager student." The younger man straightened slightly, folding his arms deeps into the billowing sleeves of his cloak.

"You realize I have stuck my neck out for you many times."

"Not to mention doused me in Lobigarian berry juice."

"Only you could sit there dripping in purple and look totally calm about it."

"More like stunned beyond belief that you were the instigator and not Bali."

Mace chuckled. "Actually I caught him shaking the bottle up but he could not control that silly grin of his. So I offered to help."

"So in other words you were corrupting my padawan?" There was a hint of playfulness in the ginger haired man's voice.

"You make it sound like it was a bad thing." Mace turned his attention back from the window to him. "Yes, of course you never did anything like that when you were his age."

Obi-Wan retreated slightly. "Master–"

"Excuse me?" Mace said quickly issuing his most authoritative tone.

"Some habits are hard to break," Obi-Wan replied. After a moment of hesitation, he smiled. "Mace." 

___________________

__

The Book of Questions

"Padawan," Qui-Gon said evenly drawing Anakin's attention away from the young senator in her office.

The younger man paused before turning. "Yes, Master?" 

Was it just him, or did Anakin seem annoyed? 

"Protecting the Senator does not mean hovering over her person."

"Yes, Master," Anakin replied tightly as he drew back to take his place at his master's side.

Qui-Gon twisted slightly to study the young man. Sometimes he forgot the boy was nearly as tall as he was. He often forgot a lot of things.

Especially that Anakin was no longer a child.

"You are a Jedi." Qui-Gon said calmly. "There are great expectations on you."

"I know, my master."

"Yes, I am certain of that." The elder Jedi paused to study the young man next to him then to gently probe their bond. It "But as a Jedi, you knew there werethings that you had to give up."

Through the bond, he could feel Anakin tense.

"Master–"

"You must focus on what is important. The Senator's safety. Focusing on her alone will keep you from seeing what must be seen."

"Master–"

"Do not interrupt me, Padawan."

Anakin lowered his head slightly.

Of course, this was the state of the conversation as of late. Anakin always seemed to be interrupting him. His impatience showing through all to often.

"If you are telling me that I can't," Anakin paused, "pursue a relationship with her then you need not worry, Master. She is a Senator and I am a Jedi. Our journeys lie on separate paths."

The young man's words made Qui-Gon hesitate. Then he smiled. As long as Anakin understood the path he was on that was all that mattered. Still, the master was aware of young man's narrowly focused attention.

He and the boy were going to have to sit down and have a serious discussion. Turning his attention toward the busy senator he knew it would not be at this moment. Again he reached out into their bond. 

The connection tightened at Anakin's end. 

"Did you have a nice conversation earlier, Master?" The young man asked sharply.

Completely taken off guard by the question, Qui-Gon turned to face the young man. Anakin's attention remained on Padmé. 

"As pleasant as expected."

Anakin smiled slightly. "I think the corridor needs patrolled." He stilled his expression into an unreadable mask. He bowed to the older Jedi and quickly retreated from the apartment.

At the sound of the door, Padmé glanced up from her desk, then quickly returned her attention to the report in front of her.

The quick glance did not go unnoticed by Qui-Gon.

After a time, the tall master strode to the large windows and stared out at the brightly-lit expanse of city below. Anakin's question bothered him. Although he wasn't sure if it was the question itself or his answer to it that inspired the most concern.

__

As pleasant as expected.

There had been great trepidation when he had turned to see the escaping former padawan. He had stumbled when calling out Obi-Wan's name as if it had been alien to him. He had not expected the young man to stop but he was surprised that the little boy did.

At first glance, he saw in Bali the feisty initiate Obi-Wan had once been. Then as the boy stood there, looking at him he noticed Obi-Wan's aloofness reflected in his actions. Not as strong though. 

In the apprentice he saw a well of emotions that the boy had not entirely mastered masking. But he was still young and had plenty of time to learn. The Jedi Master had seen curiosity and even a littlewell, he was pretty sure the child did not like being called little.

The apprentice had excellent mental shielding for his age but his face still gave away his relief upon Obi-Wan's reluctant return.

Maybe he had been wrong trying to speak to the boy without his master being present but he wished that Obi-Wan had given him the opportunity to speak. He just could not understand why his former apprentice insisted on keeping him at a distance. 

Bali had been good for Obi-Wan and he dearly hoped the change was not just on the surface. And maybe, just maybe, they could speak for a little while.

Even at this late hour, from this angle, if he strained and used a little imagination he could almost make out the primary tower of the Jedi Temple. 

Qui-Gon had never imagined it to be so large that he could go years and have next to no contact with Obi-Wan. He had thought since

No. He just chastised Anakin for being too narrow minded. There were more important things on hand to be concerned about. This mission will not last much longer. The assassin will be found and they will return back to the normalcy of life. Then he could think about more personal matters.

___________________

Book of Flesh and Bone Part IV

__

"Foolish child!" Ighista Trocha spat as he twisted, his green lightsaber slicing brightly through the evening air. "Did you imagine I was just going to stand by helplessly?"

Obi-Wan leapt backward narrowly missing being slashed across the chest. 

Anger boiled within the Master Healer at his inability to strike down the younger man. "Your life was forfeit the moment you arrived at the colony."

Again the knight easily dodged a devastating blow and stepped well out of Trocha's reach. "You never wanted Qin Luc alive."

"Her usefulness had ended. Those Xim rebels were saving her from the firing squad." Noting the surprised look that briefly fluttered across Obi-Wan's face, he lunged forward, keeping the other man on the defensive. Intentionally he drove the knight toward the body of his wife. The distraction it caused the younger man proved quite useful.

Obi-Wan caught him off guard and nicked his wrist. 

A pained howl escaped the older man but it did not slow him down. Retaliating, Trocha lashed out burning through layers of cloak and tunic but the green blade did not contact skin.

Halla lay in a rumpled mess where she had been ruthlessly shot down. Her bright blue cloak smoldered where it twisted around her face in poor protection. 

"And your wife?" Obi-Wan growled. "What did Halla have to do with this!"

"You act as if she were innocent," Trocha laughed. With his free hand he reached out, slamming Obi-Wan with a powerful Force push. 

The knight stumbled and struggled not to crash into the young woman's body. 

"Do you think me blind, Jedi pup?" What once had been serene eyes now reflected only cruelty in their black depths. His step remained lively over the durasteel platform. "She would have risked all of my research and advances to get you away from here!" Trocha spat. "She would have let you take the information about my work back to the Senate. I could not have that." Trocha struggled to keep the powerful warrior in check. "She was expendable."

"She did not deserve to be murdered." With those words spoken, something in the Jedi seemed to change. His focus tightened and in a manner of a few short moves, he had set Trocha on the defensive. 

The lightsaber's glowing blue tip contact with the tender flesh of Trocha's throat. A jagged line was traced over the skin.

The healer gave a garbled, stifled scream as he clutched the wounded flesh while staggering away.

Never backing down, Obi-Wan pressed the attack pushing Trocha into a blocked off area. 

Trocha stumbled backward, falling against the cool, chrome surface of his private launch, a Seikhan corvette. The fear in his face reflected in the gently curving mirrored surface. 

The small area hindered the battle, keeping the lightsabers moving in short, quick motions. The expert swordsman quickly emerged. Trocha was quickly loosing the battle. 

Ducking, he made a jab for the knight only to be deflected.

Sabers clashed again and again.

Twisting his weapon around, Obi-Wan caught the other's saber in a lock and pulled the hilt from the older man's hands. 

Instinctively Trocha reached out with the Force and called his weapon back. 

As the silver cylinder flew through the air, a flash of blue sliced it in half.

The Master Healer pressed himself to the silver side of the Seikhan. He just stood there, breathing heavily. Fire tore through his throat the moment he opened his mouth to speak. Regretting the action, he remained silent. Fingers brushed over the wounded flesh. The gash was long and winding, cauterized by the Jedi's weapon. 

Very calmly, Obi-Wan raised his weapon and held it just below Trocha's chin. His ginger hair was damp from the exertion and clung heavily to the side of his face. 

Carefully shifting his gaze to his immediate surroundings, Trocha noted his precarious placement between the two lower engines. His gaze focused on the knight before him. A cool smile twisted his lips upward. Clutching his throat, he rasped, "I could never defeat Jinn's apprentice in a saber fight." He paused catching the uncertain look in Obi-Wan's eyes. "At least not a fair one."

He saw the change. The moment of understanding hit Obi-Wan, but his efforts was not fast enough.

Trocha reached out through the Force triggering his ship's engines. In the distance of a heartbeat he turned his attention to the escaping knight and slammed him with a Force push just as the engines flared. 

The impact threw him to the deck, pinning him there until the stun wore of and he could manipulate the engine controls through the Force again. 

With the pressure removed, he looked up through blurred vision. 

Obi-Wan was no where to be seen. 

Not that he was ever wholly dependent on his eyes. The Force told him the Jedi still lived. 

Dragging himself to his feet, Trocha stumbled across the damaged platform. Something drew his fuzzy attention and he walked slowly to investigate the shine. Calling the object to his hand, he immediately activated the glowing blue blade of the lightsaber. 

With a slow and deliberate pace, Trocha walked up to the torn away railing that separated him from oblivion. Casting healing energies inward, he paused until his vision cleared.

A little sound at his feet drew his attention.

Obi-Wan held onto a tangle of cable that had been torn free from its hiding place. He had pulled himself almost back to the platform.

"I will tell the Jedi Council you fought bravely but there were just too many Xim rebels." In one smooth motion, Trocha sliced into the cable, severing it from the platform. 

_________________

__

The Book of Hushed Conversations

"Liar," Bali mumbled as he twisted under the covers of his sleep couch. He waved a hand defensively, but it tiredly sank back to his chest. "Not hear your lies." Groaning softly, the apprentice kicked out and rolled over, clutching his pillow tightly. "Not true," he argued with the unseen tormentor. 

Obi-Wan stood silently in the doorway. The boy's incoherent words had drawn him from his report.

"Liar!" The sleep slurred voice called out, but Bali did not wake.

The master had decided he had enough. Stealing silently into the room, he sat at the edge of the sleep couch. Bali mumbled something but it made no sense to him. 

Bali would be yelling and terrified soon like he was so often. 

But not tonight.

The boy deserved at least one good night sleep. 

"It is just a nightmare, Padawan," Obi-Wan whispered softly as he out and brushed his fingers over the trembling back. Through their bond he sent waves of peace and calm reassurance.

"Monster," the boy mumbled shrugging away from the touch. 

In the space of a heartbeat, Obi-Wan caught a glimpse of the boy's nightmare. A figure of never ending darkness, then Bali's shields closed him out.

"Bali," Obi-Wan said softly, ignoring the boy's response. "Just a nightmare," he whispered softly. Fingers lightly adjusted the braid that was twisted around the boy's neck. Through the bond, he reinforced peace and safety until he could feel the tightly held fear begin to slip away. The death grip Bali had on the pillow loosened and he finally began to relax. With a gentle call to the Force, Obi-Wan sent a sleep compulsion. 

Let the boy sleep tonight. In the morning, as always he would try to discuss them with Bali. Although the boy had rarely been receptive to such conversations, but he knew something had to be done.

Bali stilled and sank into a deep sleep. 

Instead of immediately retreating back to his work, Obi-Wan just sat there studying the thirteen-year-old still twisted up in his bedding. He then carefully untangled the covers that held the small legs prisoner. Another thing that he would have to work with the boy about. It would do no good if Bali responded to a threat only to fall out of bed because he feet were tangled up in the covers. 

Of course, it could wait until morning.

In the same quiet, he had entered the room with, Obi-Wan left. He pulled at the edges of the well-made cloak, craving the warmth that it provided. Even if it was never enough.

In the common room, he paused just at the edge of the plain gray couch. His gaze found the waiting report at the small table, but he did not attempt to return to it. Like everything else, it could wait until morning. Never taking his gaze from the work that awaited him he reached out through the Force and activated the front door controls. 

A soft swoosh revealed a very startled Bant Eerin. "I really hate it when you do that."

"I do not like anyone sneaking up on me," Obi-Wan said calmly before sinking into the couch. His fingers traced the hem of the heavy brown cloak and tugged it closed around him. 

Bant paused out in the hall. "I am pretty sure I was not," she stepped in and closed the door behind her, "sneaking up on you." She stood there for a moment studying her friend. "Okay, maybe so, but I wasn't trying that hard."

"You weren't?" Obi-Wan asked wryly.

The healer huffed and tossed herself into the chair across from the couch. "You had better keep your guard up, I am going to catch you by surprise someday."

Obi-Wan chuckled.

Pleased by his response, she replied, "Oh good, your sense of humor did not die of boredom." She smiled, unable to help herself. "So tell me about her."

A frown shadowed the master's face. "There is no her."

"Oh, I see, Bali was just making up the flighty assistant then."

Her remark earned a sharp look. "Don't encourage him." 

Bant laughed. "Why do I have the feeling that is what you tell him behind my back?"

"Because I do?" He straightened slightly, glancing around the room in desperate need of something to occupy himself with. A lifetime of friendship had given Obi-Wan certain insights on to how Bant's brain worked. And he did not look forward to being the focus of whatever she had going now.

"So what is she like?" Bant quickly pressed with a mischievous gleam in her silver eyes.

"Very annoying, just like you."

"I like her all ready."

"Bant," came the annoyed growl.

"What?" Bant grinned as she leaned forward in the seat. "I've got to have something juicy to tell Garen next time I hear from him."

"I don't want to talk about her," Obi-Wan snapped as he stood up but quickly noted Bali's open door. His voice barely above a whisper, "Unless you have something interesting to say–"

Undeterred Bant continued, "Bali says she is blond. I just don't get the human fixation with hair but aren't you a brunette kind of guy?" Pausing long enough to squash a wicked grin, she went on, "Pretty. And she likes you."

"Unmasked lust."

"What is the difference?"

"Is it me or are you abnormally irritable?"

Obi-Wan eyed her but said nothing before sinking back to the couch. "I am not irritable."

"Right, and I am a Bothan."

"I just don't–"

"So what is wrong with her?"

Obi-Wan buried his face in the large sleeves of the chestnut colored cloak. "Tell me again why I let you in?"

"Because you are stupid."

"I remember now."

"What is her name?"

The Jedi Master remained silent.

Bant started to search the pockets of her smock. "I am certain there is something I can use to extract the information." Then she offered up a wicked grin.

Obi-Wan sighed. "If I tell you, will you go away?"

"Probably not, but I promise not to laugh too much."

He knew Bant was his friend and this was her own strange and demented way of helping. How, he was not quite sure. "Everything about her repels me. She's brash, oafish, uncouth–"

"And everything Halla Keizian is not."

Obi-Wan turned to face Bant. The sharp look he had initially offered faded into a dull, empty expression before he glanced away. The only thing that would be worse would be to have her examine his scarred back again.

For a time, silence hung between the two.

"No, that is not it," he said flatly.

The Mon Cal healer huffed loudly, showing her disbelief.

"What?" Obi-Wan asked agitatedly.

"Nothing."

__

Halla Keizian.

Why did Bant have to bring her up when all he did was want to forget her?

Every ache of his spine brought the memory of her back to life. He just did not want to hear her name spoken. 

Not casually and not as if she were still alive.

Bant was quiet as she studied him for a time. "We both knew that she would never make it to knighthood, there is no reason to blame yourself. She would have left the Order with you at her side or not and you know it." She gave a weak laugh. "Remember, Halla was the one who gave you the ultimatum."

"If I had not–"

"What do you think was going to happen? Huh? Leave the Order, get married, a couple of little padawans of your own, a hovel in Keoris Prime and a job that you would not enjoy because it is not what you were meant to be? If Halla really knew you she would not have made you choose."

The master pulled his cloak tighter. "You were–"

"I am the one Qui-Gon yelled at. I am the one who tried to protect you two when you were off doingwhatever it was I don't want to think about."

"I almost left with her."

Bant stopped the surprise evident in her large eyes. "What stopped you?" she whispered.

"A long talk with Master Yoda."

"The Force has to love that little green troll," Bant said with a smile. "She was always struggling with herself. Halla lost the battle. Nearly two hundred sentient beings are dead because of her."

"There had to be a good reason–"

"We do not know that for sure," Bant argued trying to keep her tone even and passive. "She ran off, unwilling to explain her actions." There was a moment of silence. "Certainly she could not have exhausted all of her options."

"Master Denshau was dead. She had to make the decision."

Bant's silvery eyes flashed. "How do you know that?"

The master remained silent as he tugged at the edges of his cloak. 

"Obi?"

He could hear the sense of betrayal in her voice. Halla had been her friend. "She told me."

Bant started forward, freezing just before she leapt out of the chair. She visually struggled with a well of emotions.

"You have had contact with her?" She shook her head as she stood up to pace the common room. Twisting around to face her friend. "What about the Council? You know they want to find her. There is an internal warrant out for her."

"I told them all about her in my report."

"What report?" The healer demanded.

Obi-Wan did not want to return to those memories. That place and time were crushed up and closed off. He did not want them to resurface.

"Talk to me," Bant said softly but her voice still quivered with agitation.

Unwilling to meet his friend's gaze, he lightly fingered the edge of his cloak. "She is dead."

Bant sank back to the chair.

Obi-Wan just shook his head slightly. "She thought she was helping her husband. She thoughtHalla did not know he was intent on killing me. All she wanted was to get me away from the colony and it cost her life." A touch of anger reflected in Obi-Wan's voice. "I tried to stop him but he got away. He sent me over the edge of the platform."

Realization danced over her salmon features. "A couple of broken vertebrae."

"I had to leave her body where she was gunned down. I could not even give her a proper funeral."

"She was trying to save you," Bant offered.

"She shouldn't have," Obi-Wan growled. "She was afraid of him. I told her to stay out of it."

"Obi-Wan–"

"No. She never listened to me before, why did I expect her to listen then?"

Bant opened her mouth but stopped. Instead she stood and moved to the couch. "You cannot blame yourself. She was not a child and made her own decisions." Carefully she reached out and placed a salmon colored hand on his cloaked shoulder. "Just remember," she said slowly, "if it wasn't for her, that little boy would not have a master who cares for him. He would be another loss to the Jedi and I do not believe we can afford to lose another bright star." 

Pale blue eyes studied the healer silently.

"Remember," she pressed, "she would not have done it if she did not care. Do not waste that gift of a second chance."

___________________

The Book of Temple Ghosts Part III

__

The ancient yawen tree in the large meditation garden had always been Obi-Wan's favorite place to relax and reflect. He fell back against the smooth white trunk content for a moment just to sit there. 

After a while he heaved a loud sigh and tried to turn his thoughts inward, but he could not entirely do so. It had been almost two weeks since Qui-Gon had caught he and Halla together. It felt like a lifetime had past since he had any contact with the pretty padawan. It was not for a lack of trying. It seemed their master's were equally determined to keep them apart. 

Last he had heard, what Bant was able to tell him before being censored by her own master, was that Halla had been confined to quarters. She had not even been allowed to go to class recently. Since they shared several of the same classes together.

Even his ability to reach out and touch her mind was compromised. At first, he had thought it was his master's sole doing but after days wore on, Obi-Wan had grown suspicious that there was more to it than that. Not even the great Qui-Gon Jinn could maintain that kind of blocking for two weeks.

"I see you are being blocked too."

Obi-Wan nearly jumped to his feet at the sound of Halla's voice. He grinned at the other padawan. "What are you doing here?"

"Hello to you too," Halla said as she sank to the lush grass next to him. Bright green eyes studied her love for a moment before shifting away.

"We should not be seen together in public."

"What could it matter?" Halla asked, pressing herself to his shoulder.

Obi-Wan glanced about the mediation gardens and they were apparently alone. "They have separated us in the cruelest fashion." She was right. Even the physical proximity to one another did nothing to change the face that he could not sense her. She had all the depth of a holoimage to his highly acute senses. But he could feel her touch. The side of her face pressed gently to his shoulder. The warmth of her breath drifting across his neck. She was real and that was all that mattered. 

Halla sighed. "My master and I are to go before the Council in a few hours. I think they mean to send us on a long mission." Her deep brown cloak shifted slightly as she reached from the folds and found Obi-Wan's hand. "I do not want to go."

Where his hand brushed hers, a small zinging sensation caught the young man's attention. He had loved it ever since the first time he had felt the zings even if it was diminished now. Another casualty of the blocking. 

The Force moved stilted and uneven between them. Its messages clipped and made little sense. 

Disturbed by the lack of clarity he pulled his hand free.

Halla sat up in surprise. "Obi-Wan?"

"We should not be together."

The young woman frowned. "Now you sound like everyone else."

"It will only make things worse–"

"Don't," Halla said sharply as she suddenly got to her feet. "They are going to separate us. Are you not bothered by that?"

"Of course, but–"

"No!" Agitation fluttered across Halla's face. Tears welled in her eyes. "She knows, Obi-Wan. Master knows." Half sobbing, she threw herself against him.

At first Obi-Wan hesitated, unsure what to do, then he slowly wrapped his arms around the dark haired girl. She had demanded a place in his heart that he never even knew needed to be filled. Her presence was so warm and welcoming. Always there when the chill of loneliness cast its gray shadow over him. She was more than a friend. More than a lover. His heart sang at the sound of her voice. 

She was already in disfavor with the Council. Her actions during a mediation had severely compromised it. The Zorite Mining Guild nearly walked out and started a war. In the many months since, she had given them little reason to lighten her probation. Being drug before the Council for their so-called indiscretions would be devastating to her place in the Jedi.

And yet, he could not drag himself away from the weeping girl. Wrapping his arms tight around her, he could not give it up. All he wanted to do was hold her.

"I don't want to go," Halla sobbed into his chest.

"You will not be gone forever," Obi-Wan said softly, hoping that would assuage some of the grief. "We have to obey," he whispered.

"No," Halla cried. "No, we don't." She pulled away slightly. "We belong together." She grabbed his hand and held it out to study the little zings that accompanied the Force moving between them. It seemed even weaker than before. "See, we belong together. If they can just see this they would know we have to be together."

"It will not matter." Obi-Wan sighed. His master had made it clear that no one will see reason to allow their relationship to go on. "He would not lie. He says they will not let us stay together."

Halla's lower lip trembled. 

"No one is going to bend the rules. Not for us."

"Rules," Halla growled as she pushed completely away from the young man. "Rules that will keep us apart."

"Halla–"

"Let's leave." A happy, joyous smile danced across her pale features. Her eyes seemed so bright as she clutched his hand again, tugging on it. "If we can't be together here, then let's do it someplace else. You know I am right. We belong together." Her gentle laughter fluttered through the meditating garden. "Just think of it, we can be together and there is no one to stop us."

"Leave?" Obi-Wan asked worriedly.

The girl's happy motions ceased as her heart visibly broke with the utterance of that one word. "Obi?"

"We cannot just turn our backs on our training."

"I can." Her voice no longer possessed a warm tone. "Tell me, Obi-Wan. Which is more important? The Order or me?"

"Don't make me choose." Obi-Wan shook his head. It was all too sudden. "I have to think about it."

In Halla's eyes, that Obi-Wan had seen happiness and sadness dance in a thousand times, something changed. The young woman closed her eyes for a moment. Drifting elsewhere for a short time. When they opened there was only emptiness in their green depths. "If you have to think about it, then your choice is not me." She turned sharply, her dark brown cloak swishing with the sudden movement, and marched back to the path.

__________________

__

The Book of Nightmares

The covers had knotted up in Bali's thrashing but it did not keep the boy still. He twisted around violently. "No," he moaned struggling against the bedding.

Everything seemed to move in slow motion, as if he were treading water. No matter how hard he tried, he just could not break free. The never-ending whiteness of his surroundings was suffocating. 

The apprentice kept running, afraid to stop. In his panic, he cast out searching for someone–anyone–to help him.

"Master!"

No help.

His feet were beginning to ache from the constant running.

No warmth.

He was so tired.

No protection.

"Master!" the boy shrieked.

Not going to cry, Bali demanded of the tears that blurred his vision. Not a little kid anymore.

The whiteness before him started to twist and turn dark. A small gasp escaped the boy as he struggled to avoid the shadow that had formed. His feet slipped out from beneath him and he slammed into the white floor temporarily disorienting him. 

The shadow swelled into a horrible black mass.

Bali whimpered as it approached. He struggled to his feet but the monster had wrapped itself all around him leaving no room for escape. Fear quickly boiled up in the padawan as he reached for his lightsaber only to discover it missing.

"Did your master not teach you to keep your weapon with you at all times?" The beast hissed. "He really was not a very good master."

"Liar." The boy twisted around quickly and spied the merciless white of his surroundings. He bolted toward it as fast as his legs would carry him.

"Where are you running to, my little padawan?" the voice hissed from within the shadow. "Your master cannot save you now."

"Lies, all lies."

Do not cry out.

Keep it quiet.

Not a sound.

It cannot hurt me. Just a bad dream like master promised.

"Your master's pathetic promises cannot save you now, little padawan," the voice taunted.

Be quiet.

Keep it to yourself.

Do not wake Master. He doesn't need to know.

Its just a nightmare, it will go away soon.

The shadow took the shape of a black shrouded figure. "You cannot run from me." The ragged edges of the black cloak seemed alive. Grasping at the fleeing boy's feet.

The ground gave way and Bali cried out as he fell. Without an impact, he came to a sudden stop. He looked around quickly but the monster was gone.

After a few moments, his breathing returned to normal but the dream did not dissipate. "Master?" he called out tiredly.

"He cannot save you, my little padawan," a disembodied voice hissed.

It is just a nightmare, it will go away soon.

Too old to be having nightmares.

"I am not your padawan!" Bali cried out as jumped to his feet. "Monster!" 

The blood red glow of a lightsaber divided the never-ending darkness. 

Bali was too tired to run.

It is just a dream.

He will wake soon.

It would be over soon.

"Padawan?" Concern filled his true master's familiar voice.

No! No! 

Master Spex had only confirmed his nightmares.

Panic flooded the thirteen-year-old.

The beast hissed, "Let me show you who is more powerful, my little padawan."

"No!" Bali shrieked, paralyzed by fear, knowing that because of him, his master was going to die.

The glowing red blade swung around and cut through the air so fast Bali could not even cry out.

A familiar static crash crackled in his ears.

Opening his eyes Bali saw the red blade blocked by blue.

"No," Bali moaned, helpless but to watch the battle explode between the darkness and the light.

Obi-Wan expertly drove the beast backward.

Bali sank to his knees, unable to watch again.

The hum and clash seemed to go on forever.

Then suddenly there was silence.

"I am sorry, Master," Bali whispered. 

Slowly he raised his gaze. Tears welled in his eyes at the sight of his master lying at the feet of the beast. It did not take Force sensitivity to know the crumpled form was dead. He had seen his master die too many times to know any different.

The distance between he and scene closed.

Bali knelt before his master's body. He reached out slowly and adjusted the rumpled cloak. Moving the material, he saw the blackened area where the beast had plunged the glowing red blade through his master's chest.

The black shrouded figure remained perfectly still, hovering above them.

"I cannot make the nightmare go away, Master," Bali said softly to the lifeless form. Pale blue eyes stared out seeing everything and nothing at once. The boy's trembling fingers carefully closed his master's eyes for the last time. "I try but it never goes away."

Without a sound, the shadow tried to engulf the sad boy. "It is time for your training to begin, Padawan," the beast hissed. From the sea of black that was the monster, the blood red glow appeared again as the beast swung the lightsaber slicing through the invisible fabric of Bali's dream world.

The wounded whiteness began to bleed. 

Do not cry out. Don't scream. It's just a nightmare.

Do not wake up Master, he does not need to know. 

"No," Bali wept as he withdrew trying to keep a step ahead of the flowing blood. "Please don't."

"Come little padawan, come with me," the shrouded figure seemed the sing. "Your master cannot save you now. I am here to train you."

The boy stepped back and landed his boot in a puddle of blood. He barely had a chance to scream before he tumbled into the liquid, falling through the invisible ground and sinking into watery depths redder than the thousand seas of Oandor.

Bali struggled to find a ledge to grab onto and pull himself from the water. 

The black shrouded figure loomed above him.

"No," Bali sputtered, coughing to clear his lungs of the poisonous liquid. 

A black hand emerged from the shadows and gripped his soaked tunic. 

Bali shrieked as he was violently ripped from the pool.

"Padawan?" 

Not again!

Bali screamed as he fought against the powerful grip that held him prisoner. "No!"

__

Padawan!

A frightened cry broke as Bali's dampened bright green eyes snapped open. He surged forward out from under his covers. Small, but terror strengthened arms wrapped tight around Obi-Wan's neck. "Master!" he cried out.

Gently Obi-Wan wrapped his arms around the trembling, sweat soaked figure of his apprentice. "It was just a nightmare," he said softly. 

"It said it was my new master," Bali cried as he desperately clung to the folds of Obi-Wan's cloak. "Said I could not run. Itit killed–"

"Shh. It will be all right, Padawan."

______________________

Book of Flesh and Bone Part V

__

Obi-Wan's thoughts were fuzzy. He struggled against the dullness that had settled in his brain. The stun bolt had yet to wear off. He pulled at his bindings only to discover strong arms held him in place. 

Blurry vision stared down at the grated landing platform. 

"Ighista, no!" Halla screamed as she threw herself forward only to be caught in her husband's tight grip.

The Jedi raised his head at the sound of her voice, glancing around until he saw the hazy blue shape that was her cloak twisting against a dark dressed figure.

The fear in her voice was jarring to the dazed knight.

"No! You said–"

"I said what?" Trocha growled and tossed the young woman back toward the burning remains of Obi-Wan's small transport. Coldness laced Trocha's voice, "If you know what is good for you, you will get on my ship now."

"But–"

With lightening quick speed, Trocha smacked Halla across the face eliciting a cry of pain as she stumbled backward, falling to the platform. "Do not test me, my traitorous wife."

Obi-Wan pulled dully at his bonds but was held in place. He had to do something but the stun bolt had short-circuited his ability to react.

The woman shrank away. 

The warning was strong in Trocha's voice. "Do as I say unless you want to watch?"

Halla sat up from where she had been thrown. She had started to argue but hesitated then her trembling lips tightened. Her gaze swept across the landing platform, focusing on Obi-Wan.

Do as he says._ The knight did not know if she heard him or not but hoped that she was smart enough to obey. _

"Please," she begged.

Trocha ignored her, instead turning his attention on Obi-Wan. "He may be stunned, but he is still dangerous."

The clack of a blaster rifle thundered in Obi-Wan's right ear as one of the three men holding him pressed it to the side of his head. The other two tightened their grip on his arms, cruelly twisting them behind his back.

The former Jedi turned his attention to the body of Qin Luc. "You are very good, Knight Kenobi. My people could not find her in weeks and you did within days of arriving. I should have known that would not be all you would find."

Obi-Wan shifted against his bindings. He was quickly pushing the daze away becoming more focused on what was happening around him. Three men, Trocha and Halla were on the platform. There was another nearby but he could not tell their disposition. 

Halla was not moving and it made Obi-Wan nervous. He was afraid that Trocha would become further incensed by her disobedience.

From his well-cut gentlemen's jacket, Trocha revealed a lightsaber.

The knight visibly tensed.

"What? Did you think I could not build a new one after I turned the other over to the Council?"

Obi-Wan said nothing. His gaze swept from Trocha to Halla in the background.

The action was met with a dark look from the Master Healer causing Obi-Wan to reign in his concerned gaze for fear of the danger he was placing Halla in.

"Please, Ighista," Halla continued to beg softly. 

She was still ignored as Trocha activated the glowing green blade of his weapon. "My wife," he began as he approached, "is a soft hearted soul. She thought she would save you."

"Master Trocha–"

"You have seen too much." There was a long hesitation. "Besides," anger echoed in his voice, "I know all about you and my wife."

The older man's words startled Obi-Wan. "Nothing–"

The blaster muzzle dug into the flesh of his right temple bringing a small wince as he tried to focus on the anger he sensed radiating of the other man.

"In the beginning it was just business." With careful expertise, he brought the tip of the green blade to hover just before the knight's heart. "But to see what my wife would risk just for your safety it became personal."

"Master Trocha–"

"I am finished with this!" The former Jedi surged forward to strike a deathblow.

"No!" Halla shrieked. 

Obi-Wan bucked against his captors.

An invisible hand reached out and struck Trocha, the older man was thrown violently across the durasteel platform. His lightsaber loosened from his grip, it rolled harmlessly away.

The knight twisted to see Halla standing there, her hand still outstretched. Eyes wide in fear. She turned sharply toward the imprisoned knight and slammed the armed guard with another powerful Force push sending him crashing into the wall with a sickening thud.

Before the warning could even manifest itself, Obi-Wan was blinded in a bright orange flash.

Halla screamed.

A void suddenly opened up in Obi-Wan's mind. His balance was temporarily robbed of him as he watched Halla fall lifelessly to the durasteel platform.

Before Trocha could turn the small blaster on the knight, Obi-Wan reacted. He twisted, violently tossing his remaining captors loose.

Another bright flash of orange slammed into one of the men and Obi-Wan Force pushed the other, knocking him out against the wall. 

Blue flashed as he activated his lightsaber deflecting the blaster shots aimed at him.

Trocha furiously continued to fire as the knight lunged forward.

____________________

__

The Book of the Concerned Master

Morning burned through the high, filtered windows that protected the massive meditation garden. Its warm glow cast a purifying light over the myriad vegetation.

At the golden touch, the multicolored tuka flowers burst open, fanning their sweet scent throughout the garden. 

A small, green hand reached out and cradled bright blue petals. Yoda breathed in the fresh smell of morning and sighed with content. The gimer stick tapped lightly over the smooth pebble path on his way to his favorite meditation spot.

The day, as so many had become, promised to bring much strife and to try his nearly infinite patience. The Force had been calling to him, warning him that something was terribly wrong and yet even a clue to its source remained elusive. 

It had left him terribly concerned and in some ways frustrated. The whispers had been so prominent and yet he was denied the most basic answer.

The little master came to a sudden stop on the gently sloping grass and stared into the very occupied meditation spot.

"Taking up space, someone always is," Yoda grumbled as he approached the quiet figure. He paid the meditating Obi-Wan little attention until after he had found a comfortable spot in the thick grass. "Hmm, not eating breakfast with your padawan are you?"

"He is spending it with friends."

"Lonely you are? Working, is Bant?" The little master chuckled.

Obi-Wan gave a slight frown and then replied so softly as not to disturb the peace of the garden, "Not quite, Master."

"Concerned you are," Yoda said thoughtfully, seeing the weariness in the young man's eyes. It seemed more prominent than usual. 

"Bali's nightmares–if that is what they are–seem to be getting worse."

It was not the first time, nor would it be the last, that the young master would seek advice on the child. The apprentice had become a mission more important that anything to Obi-Wan. A part of Yoda had been apprehensive about introducing the child to the wounded knight but the Force demanded it. Its own will orchestrating the first meeting between future master and padawan. If that had not been a sign to the ancient master, he did not know what was.

"Hmm," Yoda said thoughtfully.

Obi-Wan's eyes betrayed him with the unabated worry that clung to the pale edges. Wiping a hand miserably over his tired face, Obi-Wan spoke after a long silence. "I keep telling him that they are just nightmares." He shook his head. "It seems they just keep getting worse." For a time Obi-Wan just studied Yoda's sleepy expression. "I think whatever Master Spex had told him has made them worse."

That was not what the little master wanted to hear. He struggled not to show any concern that would further upset Obi-Wan. 

"I do not want to dismiss them as nothing if they really are not."

"Spoken to the boy, have you?"

"He does not want to discuss them."

"Hmm. Investigate this I will," Yoda said firmly for the young master's sake. "Nightmares, children have," he said softly. "Worry to much, we can over nothing."

"Yes, I do worry," Obi-Wan admitted, "because I know it cannot be nothing to wake him in tears. Am I wrong?"

"No." It was spoken quick and firm leaving no room for doubt. "Concerned I would be if you were not worried enough." 

Obi-Wan shifted slightly, his gaze sought the distant yawen tree that he found comfort under. "I often wonder if I am doing Bali justice with his training."

"Doubt yourself, you should not." Yoda thought for a moment. "Know the boy is happy. No longer the frightened initiate. Know, I do, his instructors have seen excellent changes." Yet, he still saw the worry in Obi-Wan, it was a strong emotion that the young knight could not entirely conceal. The little green master placed a small, green hand on Obi-Wan's arm. "Know this I do, with your help, a Jedi knight he will be. A destiny he would not have otherwise."

Obi-Wan gave a small smile. Then the frown returned. "Master, I need to get away from this work for the Chancellor. These are not missions for a child."

"Expect Bali to learn in the Temple what must be learned in the field?" He was all too aware of Obi-Wan's fears for the boy's safety. And yet, Yoda had seen the little padawan who had a very rough start in life bloom under Obi-Wan's training. Bali was not as helpless as he may seem.

"Master–"

"Agree," the ancient master said quickly cutting off the argument, "different missions you need. Release you from the Chancellor's call, I will see too."

"Thank you, Master." As if aware of his intrusion of the little master's time, he stood up, and stepped from Yoda's meditation spot. 

"Hmm. Tall you are, forgotten I have." Yoda craned his neck to look up at the young master. "Child you are no more."

"I have not been a child in a very long time," Obi-Wan said bitterly as he pulled at the edges of his cloak.

Yoda's ears drooped slightly. Gently casting out on the Force, the small master sought Obi-Wan's aura. He felt the clinging illness that seemed more prominent than usual. Sensed a deep weariness that seemed to be stealing away the life of the man before him. Sheltered behind physical illness he sensed another wound that had been there long before Obi-Wan had every confronted a Sith. "Blame me, you still do," Yoda said softly.

Surprised danced in Obi-Wan's eyes. "No, Master." He pulled the cloak tight. "I understand why you did what you did. I just wishI wish I had known before."

Yoda stifled a frown. "Had you known, left the Order would you?"

Obi-Wan did not immediately answer.

"Dangerous, it was not meant to be," Yoda answered coolly. "Unforeseen it was." 

After a moment, Obi-Wan shook his head. "It is the past and we can do nothing to change it." His gaze sought the yawen tree that he and his apprentice had meditated beneath many times. "The only thing I care about now is my padawan's training."

"Good for him, you are."

"No, Master," Obi-Wan said softly. "He is good for me. He has kept me alive."

______________________

The Book of the Master and Padawan III

__

"And then Master Yabro said thatthat I did well in mymy modern history paper," an excited little voice echoed through the massive corridor of the Jedi Temple.

"That is very good, Padawan," Obi-Wan said gently, pulling his hand free of the billowing cloak sleeves and placed it firmly to the wiggling eight-year-old's shoulder. "Slow down. You have plenty of time to tell me about your day."

Bali stilled and walked more calmly along side his master. "Yes, Master." He was quiet for a time before looking up at his master. "I passed a test too."

"Very good, Padawan." He offered up the dark haired boy a smile. Then as soon as they were out of range of prying eyes, he brushed his fingers through the short spikes.

"Master," the boy half giggled and half complained as he adjusted his hair. Childish laughter filled the vast corridor. "It was the first test I ever passed."

"Ever?"

"Ever." Then the little eight-year-old paused to think for a moment. "Well, at least in a long time." Bright green eyes reflected the joy of the simple accomplishment. 

For that, Obi-Wan could not help but to grin back at the apprentice who nearly skipped in his need to keep caught up with his master's long strides. Yet the boy never complained. Still he was going to have to learn to slow, he was going to wear the little boy out.

They paused at a busy juncture to allow a group of five-year-olds to pass. The children eyed Bali; some waved with familiarity, almost all possessed the sense of awe that one so near their age had become a padawan. Bali twisted slightly to better display the small, ginger braid that hung behind his right ear.

Obi-Wan recognized the pride at being a padawan. He had felt that way once too. He could not fault the boy, being a padawan was still quite new to him, after all, it had only been a two months, but it was long enough to know that this was right. And not a moment too soon, for his battered spirit would not have lasted much longer. 

His fingers brushed down the boy's chestnut cloaked back and urged him forward toward the cafeteria for an evening meal.

"When do you think you are going to try cooking again, Master?" Bali asked softly as the smell of food wafted through the corridor. 

"You really want to do that again?"

Bali shrugged. "It wasn't so bad after I cut all the black stuff off of it."

"There was not much left either."

The apprentice giggled. "It lasted a long time because it was so hard to chew."

"You really did not have to eat it."

Bali grinned and started to say something but stopped. 

The master followed his padawan's gaze, stopping at Master Mace and waiting in the corridor. His expression was solemn as he motioned them into a private conference room. 

At first, Obi-Wan just stood there. Somehow, he knew this meeting would soon interrupt his life. He was not ready to face the demand.

"What is going on?" Bali whispered.

"Master Mace just wants to have a talk with me." He could feel the fear that he had spent his life keeping away from rise uncontrollably inside. "Why don't you go ahead to the cafeteria, I am sure you are hungry."

"I want to stay," Bali replied.

Obi-Wan looked at the boy curiously but saw no fear in the bright green eyes. Maybe it would make it easier. He would not fight it if Bali was standing there. Offering the boy a gentle nod, he led them into the conference room. "He choses to stay," the younger master said, answering the question before it was even asked.

"Very well." Mace then shut the door behind them. 

The room was slightly larger than the Council chamber but semi circle. The curved wall was lined with wide windows giving a panoramic view of the Temple dock. Not one of the most pleasing views but at least the natural, Coruscant light was still burning across the sky.

Yoda sat perched on one of the deep red bench seats and was quietly studying the new master and padawan. "Come, come," the little master insisted, "the boy is hungry. Get this over with, we should."

Obi-Wan and Bali stood between the semi-circle of benches and waited until Mace had taken his place near Yoda.

"This is rather informal," Obi-Wan said carefully.

"If you prefer we can drag you before a full Council inquiry," Mace responded.

"No, this is fine." No, it was not. He was not ready for this.

Bali carefully stepped a little closer to Obi-Wan's side.

Yoda's large eyes took silent note of the action. "Concerned you are, little one?"

Doubt fluttered across Bali's features. "Yes, Master," he said as he nodded.

Obi-Wan quietly studied the small apprentice, who stood right at the edge of his cloak hem. Then he turned his gaze to the two waiting Masters.

Both councillors' attentions were focused on Bali. 

Mace spoke evenly, "How are your studies, Padawan Tiro." He drew a particular attention to the boy's title.

"I passed a test today," Bali said, the chipper tone returning to his voice. "The first one in a long time."

Mace quirked an eyebrow and then smiled warmly. "That is excellent." 

"Master helped me study," Bali added.

"Good master, he is?" Yoda asked.

Bali nodded in excitement. "Yes, Master."

Yoda slipped from the cushioned bench and approached the apprentice. "Come, child. Evening approaches, we will watch." 

At first, Bali looked back worriedly, but a gentle nod from Obi-Wan sent the boy after the little green master who led him to the expansive windows.

The apprentice's eyes brightened when he saw a large Corellian freighter lift off in the distance. Its bulk did nothing to tarnish the graceful control of the pilot who maneuvered the hulking craft through the traffic. 

Obi-Wan just watched Yoda entertain the eight-year-old. Then slowly, he turned his attention back to Mace, who silently waited. "Master."

"You will seek the care of a mind healer." There was no hesitation or playing around the subject. It was not a suggestion but a demand.

"I do not–"

"I don't particularly care what you want," Mace said coolly.

Obi-Wan straightened slightly. "I will not."

Mace seemed oblivious to the younger man's statement. "Now, I admit," the tall master began as he leaned forward to rest an elbow on his knee, "that we were quite unsuccessful in forcing you into a healer's office–"

"You still are." He would not waver in this. No mind healer, ever.

Mace eyed him warily. "Oh, I don't think we will have much trouble this time." He twisted slightly to watch the soft conversation between Yoda and Bali.

Obi-Wan shifted, folding his arms across the chest. He knew they would try again. "This is blackmail." He just did not know Bali was the ransom. "I will not," he repeated.

"You know as well as I do, every padawan–especially one as young as Bali–needs a stable environment to thrive in. The Temple may be the walls, but a master is the foundation. Before, when you were the only one at stake, we could do little to get you to seek help. When a child is at stake it is required." There was a long silence as Mace drew his attention back to Obi-Wan. "The only way out of this is to relinquish the training bond."

Obi-Wan said nothing.

"Master Lorus Anell with be expecting you in his office at the tenth hour, tomorrow."

Feeling particularly cold, Obi-Wan wrapped himself in the edges of his cloak. "You cannot do this." 

"I can, by agreement of the Council. Would you like to stand before them and explain why you have ignored entreaties from the mind healers? It would be interesting to hear your excuse."

"I will not," Obi-Wan argued.

"Nor will I listen. You have no place to argue with us. The Council will no longer tolerate it. Not when a child is involved. Tenth hour tomorrow be at Lorus' office or deliver the boy back to the initiate housing."

Without a word spoken, Yoda turned and led the boy back his master's side. A few brief courtesies and the two masters left. 

Obi-Wan sank to the bench. His head hurt at the thought of facing a mind healer. He did not need one. Burying his face in his hands, the young master struggled to control the rage of emotions welling inside of him. 

Master Lorus was not just a mind healer, but also the overseer of master/padawan relationships. The Mon Calamari was Bant's social opposite. It always left him to wonder if they were actually the same species. He took care of the more troubled relationships. 

Once it had even been suggested he and his master seek Lorus' help after Naboo, but everything fell apart and then there was no master/padawan team to be concerned about. It was just he. Alone.

The worry rose in tides and Obi-Wan started at the soft shuffle of footsteps across the marble floor.

Bali froze. Bright green eyes stared worriedly at him. "Are you okay, Master?"

"Of course," he said quickly then sat there quietly. "No, not really. No."

The apprentice drew close and with no prompting, sat down on the bench next to his master. Little fingers twisted nervously around one another as they boy struggled not to fidget.

"Master Yoda said that Master Mace had to talk about something really important and that it would upset you."

Obi-Wan straightened. "He did?" Blast that troll for bringing Bali into this.

Bali nodded.

"He's right," Obi-Wan sighed, "it did."

"Oh." The body struggled to still himself before turning bright green eyes toward the master. "Was it about me?" Before Obi-Wan could answer, Bali continued. "Am I not good enough to be a padawan?"

The boy seemed so small sitting there on the bench. He took his gaze away and stared out the vast window.

Lorus temporarily forgotten, Obi-Wan turned his complete attention on the apprentice. "Why would you think that?"

Bali wiggled slightly before dropping his gaze to his uncontrollably kicking feet. "Some of the kids say I am not smart enough to be a Jedi and I should be shipped off to the AgriCorps. They say I do not deserve to be a padawan."

At the reminder of his near fate, Obi-Wan bristled. Reaching out gently, he pressed the tip of his forefinger to the little boy's pale forehead. "A Jedi is not merely what is in here." He ran his finger over the tip of Bali's nose dropping it to press just above the little boy's heart. "A Jedi is what is in here." Noting the confusion on Bali's face, he continued. "You cannot exist without the other and your heart more than makes up for being a little bit behind." He offered up a warm smile. "You would not be here if they did not think you worthy of being a Jedi."

Worry fluttered across Bali's small features. "Then why are you upset?"

"I might not be good enough to be your master," Obi-Wan sighed. 

Bali leaned back slightly, obviously not understanding. "You are a good master."

"It is not that easy, Padawan." He did not want to face Lorus Anell. He did not want the past dredged up. It had been buried for a reason.

"But you are a good master," Bali repeated.

"I cannot train you if I cannot even control my own fears."

"Oh."

I will not go, the master decided. He would not let his past hurt him again. He could do nothing to change it, so why dwell on it? Could not the Council just let it lie? It would change nothing. The damage was long done and thick scars covered the wounds. 

I will not go.

Anger bubbled deep within for being such a coward. 

It was the past, what possible reason would be benefited by reliving it?

Concerned thoughts scampered at the edge of the training bond. A training bond he had no control to stop. It burst into existence unwanted.

So unwanted that he did not want to go without it.

So unwanted that without it, he feared he would not survive the emptiness.

"It is okay, Master." Bali said softly. "I understand." He stood up from the bench and stared out the window for a moment. He smiled, although his bright green eyes glistened in the light. "I am afraid of a lot of things even though I know I am not supposed to be. Sometimes I do not do things I am supposed to do because I am afraid."

Obi-Wan could feel the bond retreat a little.

In Bali's eyes, Obi-Wan saw the happy eight-year-old vanish as calm acceptance flowed over the small features. 

Bali had felt every thought, every moment of doubt. He had felt the fear and certainly knew the rejection. His master was so afraid of a mind healer that he would turn his back on the little padawan. 

"Not a very good example, am I." Obi-Wan asked softly.

Of course, Bali did not understand. He could not.

He would not be allowed to know abandonment. 

"I am afraid," Obi-Wan whispered.

"I am always afraid," Bali replied, wrapping his small arms around his master's neck.

"Something we need to work on." Not at the moment, though. He bound the small figure in the fold of his cloak and just held on for fear of losing the boy.

_______________

__

The Book of Learning

A dull ache moved from the base of Bali's skull to the front leaving his brain feeling mushy. He stared blankly at the class work laid out on the desk in front of him. Determined to finish his work he leaned forward and focused on the problem solving assignment. 

Frustration knitted the thirteen-year-old's brows as he struggled with the problem. He pushed the data pad back slightly then drew it back toward him for another attempt. It was not long before he violently shoved his studies off the side of the desk. 

He never got the answer, the right one. His work was always wrong.

With every passing day, the work became more complex. Even with his master's help, he was still falling behind. Groaning softly, Bali slumped forward and smashed his forehead against his desktop. 

"Are you trying to break the desk?" Obi-Wan asked dryly from the doorway.

"Sorry, Master," the apprentice mumbled from his face down position. Then slowly raised his head and dropped it back to the desk. "I like to see stars." 

"Wait until this evening then." The master walked across the small room in a few short steps and peeled Bali's head back from the smooth blue desktop. "Housing does not like it when we break furniture. Nor do I want you looking like I beat you up."

"No, you just beat me in saber practice."

"Which is to be expected, Padawan." He pulled the boy's head back and rubbed the red oblong cast against the pale forehead. "I do not think smashing your head against the desk is going to help you with your studies."

"But it makes it more interesting," Bali said.

Gentle laughter filled the small room as Obi-Wan gathered up the discarded data pad, reader and chips. Then curled up on the sleep couch next to the desk. He studied the boy's unhappy face before sliding the work back across the desk.

Bali adjusted the placement of the items but did not attempt to return to his studies.

"What are you working on?" 

A loud sigh escaped the dark haired apprentice as he made a face. Roughly he brought up the assignment and slid it across the desk to Obi-Wan. "One of those awful word problems assigned by Master Renu."

Obi-Wan took up the pad and started reading.

In the ensuing silence, Bali returned to his face down position on the desk. Then he remembered his run in earlier in the day. He reached to the back of his desk and grabbed a strange, green fruit and shoved it toward the older Jedi. "From Healer Bant, with love."

"With love?"

"Her words, not mine."

Curiously studying the strange fruit, Obi-Wan finally picked it up and twisted it around in his hand. "What am I supposed to do with it?"

"Eat it. At least that is what I do."

"It is green," the master grimaced, "and hairy."

"Very sweet too." Bali sat up again. A great, oblong red mark still glowed in the center of his forehead. 

Absently Obi-Wan reached out and rubbed the mark again. "That is an unbecoming look on you, Padawan."

Bali giggled his headache beginning to fade. "Healer Bant said if you don't eat it she is going to tell me about the time you fell in the pond."

The fruit crunched as Obi-Wan bit into the juicy green object. "She will tell you anyway regardless of what I do."

"She does not think you are eating well enough." He noted the look of worry flutter across his master's usually staid face.

As if suddenly aware of the awkward silence, Obi-Wan replied, "You eat enough for the both of us." The odd green fruit crunched loudly as he turned his attention back to the data pad.

"I don't know why I have to learn all these problem solving questions," the apprentice grumbled. "Why will I ever need to know if two Bothan's are on a transport going–"

"These questions are no different than what we face on our missions, Padawan. You are just not looking at them in the right frame of mind."

Bali shook his head. "I do not understand." Those four little words always opened the door to help and explanation. 

"Think of some of our recent missions. For example, yesterday when we investigated Senator Zucha's death. Or the death of Senator Irisi a few months ago. What do they have in common?"

"They both died terribly." Bali had seen several deaths in his short life but the two dead senators were by far the most disturbing. Oddly enough though, it was not the deaths themselves and maybe not even how they died, but rather that there was something very unsettling about the scene. He did not know what it was but it set his master on edge.

"Yes. And?" Obi-Wan gently pushed.

Drawn back to the moment, Bali concentrated on the question. He thought of the two deaths, neither of which his master had been too keen on letting him get close to. His face brightened as the thought leapt into existence. "They both had their hearts cut out."

"Correct." Obi-Wan paused to bite off another chunk of the fruit. "Their deaths were similar to eight other assassinations."

The apprentice grinned as the lesson was about something he knew. They had recently studied it in his current events class. "The assassinations which is causing a political upheaval." At least that was what Master Cer'li had said. 

The master frowned slightly. "That is part of it." He then finished off the fruit. "What else do they have in common?"

"They all had their hearts cut out."

Obi-Wan nodded. "And that means?"

"They were killed by the same person."

"Or group. Whoever is behind it is motivated and has the ability to get in and out of situations unseen. They are well funded." His attention returned to the data pad.

At first, Bali was quiet as he considered something else he had learned in class. Carefully he looked over at his master, who was always wrapped in his heavy cloak. "They were all involved in the trial against the Neimodians."

Immediately he had his master's undivided attention. "What?"

Bali squirmed slightly, concerned that he had made an error, but his master's understanding gaze told him otherwise.

"In my recent events class," he began slowly. "We had a chapter on the trial against the Trade Federation's blockade of Naboo. Senator Irisi and Zucha were involved in the trial." The boy noted the master's withdrawn expression. Quickly Bali searched through his work for the data chip containing the information on the chapter. He loaded it into the reader and handed it to his master. "The other senators that were assassinated were a part of the trial on one side or the other." He paused to catch his breath and gather his thoughts. Visually he could not tell how his master was taking the information. Bali really was not even sure Obi-Wan believed him. "Irisi and Zucha and at least a few of the other dead senators were the ones instrumental in the dismantling of the clone factory on Xim. Master Cer'li said that they were trying to cover up for the fact that they had been sympathetic to the Trade Federation when they invaded Naboo. And that it looked bad when the Trade Federation was financially backing the clone factory. She said they were trying to politically redeem themselves." 

The apprentice stopped for a moment as confusion glossed his features. "I thought the Neimodian's were not allowed to build a new army?"

"Not a droid army," Obi-Wan said absently. Then he laid the pad down and stared at the boy for a long time. "How did you figure this out?"

Bali shrugged. His master was quiet and that worried him. He knew, as it was no secret, that Obi-Wan had been instrumental in both events. "I just remembered Zucha's name when we investigated his death. We just had that section in class." 

The Jedi master studied the pad as he quickly scrolled through the information. He mumbled out loud, "The League. Trade Federation." 

The apprentice quietly studied the figure next to him. Mention of the Trade Federation always seemed to bring sadness to the older man. Bali didn't quite understand. In his current events class, they had prefaced the chapter on the trade Federation trial with the invasion of Naboo. The emergence of the Sith and the battle. He remembered how all eyes fell to him as if he were going to tell them all about the battle with some secret story his master had saved just for him. The truth was, Master Kenobi rarely spoke of the battle and then only after a great deal of pressing. There was nothing though that could persuade him to speak of the actual fight with the Sith. Or what happened afterwards. 

Now that Bali had a chance to think about it. Just a day ago, he had stood before the Naboo who was Supreme Chancellor of the Republic, a man who once was Senator and was driven into the position because of sympathies against the blockade. Well, at least that was what Master Cer'li had said in class. Bali now realized that he had stood in the same room with the Chancellor and the Senator of Naboo–the former queen that had lead the battle against the Trade Federations forces. The other Jedi in the room, now that he knew was his master's master, was the Jedi master sent to force an end to the blockade. Bali looked over at Obi-Wan. His master had still been an apprentice then.

A padawan learner the day he faced and battled the Sith. 

Obi-Wan straightened. "Senator Amidala."

"Master?"

"She backed the motion to destroy the cloning facility." He was on his feet and halfway across the room. "Get ready."

"Yes, Master." Bali quickly pulled his cloak on and made sure his lightsaber was with him. He jogged into the front room and found his master at the comm finishing a message. 

"Keep trying to contact them. We are on our way."

____________________

__

The Book of Plans

Soft footsteps moved through the corridor from the private section of Padmé's official Coruscant residence into the public office. Her gaze swept through the intricately detailed glass that separated the office from the informal common area.

At first, she caught sight of her reflection in the transparent wall. Carefully she straightened the edges of the fitted blue coat that wafted just above the floor. She was dressed simply in a loose fitting pale blue shirt and dark blue leggings. Briefly, she noted a scuff on one of the black boots. There was something unsettling and she did know what it was and thought she should be ready for anything.

Noting the towering Jedi Master near the sun kissed windows she turned her attention to the blinking light on the comm unit built into her desk. Absently, she reviewed her messages but her gaze returned to the older man. 

There was no message from Bail Organa. Making herself focus, she studied the list of messages again just to be certain she had not missed one. Frustration welled in her as she had hoped he would keep her up to date on the proceedings of the negotiations. Still, the Senator knew she should have faith in him, he was a great diplomat and he would contact her when time was good. She would be one of the firsts to know if there was a problem. 

She should not worry. 

Telling and believing were two different things and Chancellor Palpatine had not responded to her plan as warmly as she would have hoped. It brought an unwelcome sense of concern that she had not expected. Irisi had nearly brought the negotiations to fruition but his death forced her into a more active role. The Aveniar did not trust her. After all the work she had done, they still were not willing to give the go ahead if she lead the convoy. It was only the suggestion that Senator Organa go that they seemed willing.

Negotiation was their only hope as civil war loomed on the horizon. She prayed that Bail was successful.

Messages played as she sank to the chair behind the elegant desk carved from a great golden yarel. There was absolutely nothing of importance in any of the messages. All they did was confirm business meetings and invites to various social events around the city planet. Padmé growled softly at the thought of the politicians partying in grand ballrooms as the Republic was tearing itself apart.

Her anger immediately dissipated at the appearance of the hazy image of Jira Thelo. Startled, Padmé quickly paused the message. Leaning against the finely carved wood of the desk, she gazed at the imposing figure of Qui-Gon Jinn. He seemed to glow in the bright morning light. 

Certain his attention was not on her, Padmé carefully adjusted the sound setting and moved to block the holoimage from Qui-Gon's serene gaze.

Leaning a little closer to the static strewn image, she resumed the message. 

"Greetings, Senator Amidala," Jira began. The young woman appeared to be dressed in a traditional Naboo travelling dress. Her blond hair was pulled back under a simple red headdress with gold accents. "I have just reached Tatooine and am in search of the woman who owns," there was a slight hesitation and a look of disgust, "Shmi Skywalker." Jira was quiet a moment as her image fluctuated. "With luck we will be returning in a few days." The image broke up and ended.

A little smile danced across Padmé's face before she squashed it. She feared that if she could not control her emotions, the first time she got near Anakin he would sense what she was planning.

The Senator closed the message and filed it away from prying eyes. Then she gathered up a data pad with notes from an earlier meeting. Quietly she entered the common room but made no pretense, as she knew the Jedi master was well aware of her presence. 

"Senator," the master said plainly as he nodded a greeting toward her.

"Master Jinn." Padmé hesitated. "I am sure, Master Jedi, that you have other duties to attend to." She straightened slightly gaining a more dignified stance. "The attack was aimed at the Chancellor. There has been no further threat against me and my private guard is sufficient." While she owed her life to this Jedi, she was certain he still looked at her like the handmaiden that had tagged along with him to Mos Espa.

Qui-Gon turned to eye her curiously. "The Chancellor has requested special protection for you, Senator."

"I do not consider myself special," she replied a bit to defensively.

"Senator–"

The Jedi Master grew silent as if he seemed to be studying the air. 

________________

__

The Book of Dangerous Confrontations

Anakin sprinted through the all too quiet corridor of the Senatorial Offices building. He was unable to shake the feeling of dread deep in his bones. 

Footsteps thundered as he raced feeling as if he could not get back the Padmé's apartment fast enough. A suffocating darkness seemed to be everywhere and no where at once. 

The concern only seized him when he realized the bond between he and his master was blocked. He screamed warnings but knew Qui-Gon was not receiving them.

Something powerful was blocking _him_.

Even as he ran, he pressed into the Force, it was calling to him. Still, there was something that he couldn't quite place. It was unsettling and dark.

Beckoning to him.

"Master!" The scream ripped through him, no longer able to contain the great fear that was building up in him. The encroaching darkness felt as if it were going to suffocate him. Racing around a corner he skidded to a stop.

Air caught in his lungs as he scrambled back a few steps. 

Blocking the corridor was a black shrouded figure. The cloak obscured the form giving the youth little idea what he was truly up against. 

The dark Force repelled him.

The heavy black cowl obscured the Sith's face but did nothing to dampen the unnatural voice that echoed throughout the corridor, "Have you come to play with me, Jedi spawn?"

Finding determination in the knowledge the Sith beast stood between he and Padmé, Anakin sprang into action. A flash of bright blue when his lightsaber exploded to life as he threw himself toward the enemy.

Darth Vengier moved just out of reach of the deadly blade causing the cowl to fall back slightly revealing a dull black mask that imitated a human face. "I have no weapon," the dark lord hissed. "I am unarmed. Would you strike me down?"

"You are a Sith!" Anakin barked lashing violently out.

The robes fluttered as Vengier easily ducked and stepped out of the way of the glowing blue blade. 

Anakin continued the attack, slashing wildly at the flowing black robes as the figure continued to evade the deadly blows. The young man huffed as strived harder to make contact with the figure. This was an enemy of the Jedi, like the one that had nearly struck his master down on Naboo. One who may have been involved in the Trade Federation's invasion, meaning Padmé was still in danger. This was the assassin that the Supreme Chancellor had ordered him to protect her from.

Vengier's unnatural voice echoed cruel laughter. "Foolish child." A gloved hand appeared from within the folds of the robe and commanded the Force with a simple flick of the wrist. The Force swirled and slammed violently into the young man sending him flying backward. 

Anakin screamed the moment he impacted the wall. He dropped his lightsaber as he slid to the floor with a pained groan.

The Sith gracefully reached out and called the weapon to hand. "The child has fashioned a weapon," came the mechanical hiss. The saber activated cutting gracefully through the air. The blue blade cast an eerie glow over the dark folds of Vengier's cloak.

"Come, pup, play with me."

Anakin scrambled backward on the Sith's approach. Visually he searched the hall for a weapon. The light fixtures caught his attention. Drawing on the Force, a low rattle filled the hall.

A menacing glint lit Anakin's eyes.

This creature would not be allowed to harm Padmé.

Tightening his grip on the Force, the fixtures ripped from the walls, flying effortlessly through the air toward the black clad figure. 

Vengier moved swiftly, drawing Anakin's lightsaber about, cleanly slicing the projectiles apart before they could do any real damage. 

"Is that all you have?" Vengier hissed. The dark lord reached out drawing thumb and forefinger together.

Anakin gasped as the Force closed off the air around his throat. Panic flooded through him. "Stop," he croaked but more words failed him. He could not focus to counter the strangulation. 

"Stop what, pup?" Vengier asked. The flowing black robes glided across the dull gray floor of the corridor. 

Struggling hard, Anakin could feel the Force pulling at him body and soul. His strength was quickly being depleted. At Vengier's request, the apprentice was wrenched from the floor and held just above its comforting foundation.

"This is the mighty chosen one?" Vengier taunted with cruel laughter. "Come, pup, I expected you to show me a real challenge."

Through blue tinted lips, Anakin croaked, "What do you want?"

"To see you and your Jedi Order die."

The carefully hidden rage burst from its captivity within the young man at the embarrassment of being so easily held prisoner. He was the chosen one after all. He should not be held like a pathetic initiate.

"Wounded pride," the Sith hissed. "I thought the Jedi trained that out of your kind."

Anakin's struggles ceased but his bright blue eyes remained lucid. Purple lips drew into a tight smile. "I wasn't always a Jedi," he barely whispered. With thoughts quicker than reflexes he grasped the full power of the Force and retrieved his lightsaber from Vengier's grasp.

Vengier jerked in surprise as Anakin activated his weapon and drove the Sith back. Still winded he swung hard but left himself open. Vengier took the opportunity and backhanded him sending the youth to the floor with a loud thud.

Again the Sith called the youth's weapon and activated it. Raising the weapon to deliver the deathblow, Vengier hissed, "Good night, little Jedi."

"No!" The scream and the powerful Force push collided simultaneously. 

Vengier's feet were swept up in the twirling, twisting power of the Force. Robes fluttered and tangled around the Sith moments before crashing to the floor.

"Why stop me?" Vengier growled.

Qui-Gon threw himself in between his fallen apprentice and the Sith. He clutched the hilt of his lightsaber the blade as a silent warning against bringing more harm to his apprentice. 

"Old man," Vengier hissed. Flipping in a tangle of robes the dark lord landed lightly on the tightly woven carpet. Appearing out of nowhere the red glow of a lightsaber cut through the white light of the corridor. "You surprised me, that was the only time. I will kill you as easily as I will kill the sleeping, lovelorn boy."

"This does not concern my padawan."

Wicked laughter echoed through the hall. "He is Jedi and deserves only death." Testing the Jedi Master, Vengier lashed out only to be expertly blocked. "Do you not feel it, Jedi? He was not running to your side, he was seeking to protect the girl."

Qui-Gon stiffened slightly. "He is a Jedi," he threw Vengier's words back.

"Oh yes," Vengier said with a hint of laughter. "Jedi can not know love."

The two fierce figures engaged. The taller man blocked Vengier's attacks.

"Do you think you are saving the boy?" Vengier asked, striking violently at the Jedi master.

"I will not listen to your taunts," Qui-Gon answered between gritted teeth.

Undisturbed, Vengier struck, sending the Jedi master off balance but before delivering the devastating blow Qui-Gon found his composure again and quickly blocked. 

While slower than the quick footed Sith, Qui-Gon's experience and calm turned the fight sending Vengier on the defensive.

"Were you never in love, Jedi?" Vengier asked between strikes.

Still, Qui-Gon did not answer as he continued to drive the Sith down the hall and away from the still unconscious Anakin.

"Were you never betrayed by the one you loved?" 

_____________________

__

The Book of Electrifying Scenes

Master Jinn had told her to stay put, that her private guard would protect her. The same private guard she had been so certain minutes ago was sufficient. So why did she feel so afraid?

At her desk, she found the hidden compartment that stored a small blaster. It felt good in her grip, easing a little of the tensions that had built up. Deciding that she did not want to get trapped in the confines of her office and quickly moved to the common room where she could maneuver if need be.

In the center of the room she stopped and twisted around. A chill wrapped itself around her. She tugged on her jacket searching for warmth and twisted around half expecting a pair of eyes to be on her but found that she was still alone. Nervously she reached up and rubbed her fingers over that japor snippet hidden under the layers of clothing. 

"Foolish child."

Padmé spun, horrified to find a figure standing in the middle of the room where it had not been moments before. "Who are you?" She demanded of the black robed figure.

A creaky laugh and a cultured tone filled the room. "I am the one whose plans you are disrupting with your little negotiations." Cruel, pale lips shown beneath the low hanging hood.

The young Senator withdrew. Tightening her grip on the small blaster she quickly raised it and fired several quick shots. A pale white hand raised from within the folds of the robe taking the bolts. They snapped harmlessly against Darth Sidious' palm. With the slightest motion, he called the blaster from Padmé sending it flying across the room. 

Padmé screamed as she stumbled backward searching for her discarded weapon.

"Oh, do you think you are going to harm me?" Sidious mocked. "You have been nothing but trouble."

"These are protected–"

"Your Jedi friends are detained by my protégé."

Padmé's heart sank. Still, she withdrew slightly searching for an escape route. 

"You cannot run."

"Who are you?" She demanded, still searching the room. 

Sidious smiled as he approached. "Your executioner." Light flickered in the Sith's eyes as he raised his hands. Blue light arced from his fingertips.

Padmé shrieked in pain as the bolts of Force lightning struck her. She made a step before falling to the floor. Terror filled cries ripped through her as jolt after jolt hit her sending her in to violent convulsions.

"Die, my pretty little troublemaker," Sidious laughed cruelly.

The cries came unabated, the pain too much for her to fight against the terrible assault.

The door to her apartment burst open and Bali Tiro bolted into the room. The pale violet of his lightsaber led the way as he barrelled toward the fallen woman.

Sidious stopped the attack studying the determined boy. "Another Jedi?"

"Senator?" The boy asked without taking his eyes from the Sith lord.

Padmé groaned weakly.

Bali turned back toward Sidious. Fear flashed in his green eyes but was quickly subdued under a mask of calm.

"Brave little boy," Sidious crooned. "Do you think you can stop me?"

"No, I am only here to save her."

The boy reached back blindly and grabbed Padmé's singed arm. "Are you okay?"

Padmé responded with a weak groan.

"You have got to get to your feet," Bali urged.

"I think not," Sidious hissed as more bolts shot from his fingertips striking Bali, sending the small apprentice flying across the room with a pained cry. Sidious focused on the youth, striking him repeatedly with the Force lightning. Bali screamed and writhed in pain. "Die, foolish–"

The last word was caught as the glowing brilliance of a pale blue lightsaber cut through the layers of the Sith's robe.

"Get the Senator out of here!" Obi-Wan barked to his apprentice.

Still stunned, Padmé turned to see the fallen boy struggle to his feet and run to her. Surprisingly strong arms urged her to her feet but her strength was gone and she leaned heavily against the thirteen-year-old for support. She followed the boy's gaze to the dark cloaked figure struggling against the lightsaber that had impaled him.

Bali remained frozen, worry shifting from the Sith to his master.

"Do as I say!" Obi-Wan snapped.

She felt the apprentice nod and led her to safety.

____________________

__

The Book of Questions

Sabers clashed violently as Qui-Gon drove the Sith through the corridor toward a viewing deck and away from his still unconscious padawan. His muscles were already beginning to ache from the strain but he would not back down. 

Vengier ducked and blocked the Jedi master's attack but the older man maintained the advantage.

For his part, Qui-Gon kept the fight steady and intense unwilling to allow the Sith an opening. He could sense desperation in Vengier's fighting style. Unlike the first Sith he had battled back on Naboo, this one was not an expert swordsman.

Still, the dark lord did not make the battle too easy. The walls rattled as Vengier brought the Force to bear and fixtures broke loose of their secure moorings. At the whim of the black clad figure the light fixtures slammed into the elder Jedi Master. So many that he could not deflect them and maintain his attention on the battle. The flying objects viscously battered him.

Qui-Gon pressed, striking at the Sith repeatedly, setting the figure off balance. He raced ahead, forcing Vengier onto the large viewing deck. The transparasteel dome over the deck glinted in the bright sunlight and reflected light from the constant stream of traffic in the distance.

Twisting around, Vengier searched the plain, featureless deck for more projectiles but found none. Unwilling to give up, the Sith lashed out driving Qui-Gon back a few steps and bolted back toward the open doors.

Quickly the Jedi master spied the doors the Sith was heading toward. Reaching out on the Force, Qui-Gon slammed the doors closed and sealed them.

Growling, Vengier turned, seemingly charged with a new energy. "Do you think that will stop me, old man?" the Sith hissed. The bright morning light illuminated the expressionless mask under the hood. A reddish cast danced off the smooth mask as Vengier struck quickly, momentarily driving the other back. "Tell me, Jedi," came the mechanized voice as the blood red blade guaranteed a certain distance between the two warriors. "Do you know what it is to be betrayed by those you cared for?"

Refusing to answer the Sith's taunts, Qui-Gon struck, clipping the black shrouded figure's shoulder. Vengier howled in pain and stumbled backward a few steps. Then, undaunted, the Sith laughed menacingly before returning to the attack. "Have you never betrayed a sacred trust?"

"I will answer you nothing!" Qui-Gon roared as he threw himself at Vengier cutting a deep slice into the Sith's arm.

Reacting violently, Vengier slammed the tall master with a powerful Force push sending him flying across the viewing deck.

With the opening, the Sith quickly turned the glowing red saber on the transparasteel dome. The clear surface melted away as Vengier cut an opening. Gale force winds tore into the deck and whipped through the robes of the two figures. Qui-Gon was on his feet to intercept Vengier but the shrouded figure moved faster.

With one powerful leap the Sith flew out through the hole. Qui-Gon ran to the gaping wound in the dome and stared down. All that remained of the Sith was a billowing, shapeless black spot descending into the shadowed depths of the city planet.

______________________

__

The Book of Fried Jedi

Sidious stumbled from the shock of seeing the glowing blue brilliance of a lightsaber jutting through his abdomen. It overwhelmed all other conscious thought. 

The troublesome Naboo Senator had escaped with the help of Kenobi's pathetic little padawan. Rage swelled within the Sith. His plans had been disrupted, but this meddlesome Jedi would pay. 

Just as easily as he had plunged to lightsaber into the dark lord, Obi-Wan withdrew the blade. The bright blue retreated slightly as he brought the weapon back.

Before the Jedi could react, Sidious twisted and boney fingers caught the young master by the throat. He channeled the pain from his wound into the swirling darkness and manifested it as bright flashes of lightning that leapt from his fingertips to the Jedi.

Obi-Wan jerked but Sidious refused to let him break free. He wanted to see the Jedi struggle against his inevitable death. He would bask in the younger man's suffering. "You may have killed my former apprentice, but you will not kill me," Sidious hissed. 

The Jedi cried out as he sank to the deep blue carpet. His hand gripped at Sidious' wrist trying to break free of the electrifying situation. He fought to pull away but Sidious would not let go. 

The pain rippling through the younger man was intoxicating. So long had there been a desire to see this particular Jedi dead that the Sith wanted to enjoy it.

"You surprise me," Sidious said. "Your will is powerful."

The dark lord could feel Obi-Wan's strength quickly giving away. Good, Sidious' own strength was slowly bleeding away as well. The lightsaber wound was taking its toll and the Sith would have to flee soon or risk becoming compromised. Distracted by the precarious situation, Sidious never noticed the remaining look of determination in Obi-Wan's eyes as he slammed the dark lord's wounded abdomen with his lightsaber hilt.

Sidious howled and stumbled backward. The pain was crippling and it took a great command of the Force to keep from collapsing. By the time the robed figure had recovered, Obi-Wan was back on his feet with his weapon activated. 

"I underestimated you," Sidious said calmly. Pale hands jutted out from the billowing black sleeves of the robes. Force lightning twisted and licked pale fingertips as the bluish purple light formed into a great glowing sphere.

The Jedi leapt forward, lashing out at the dark lord. It was all Sidious could do to keep from being impaled a second time as the Sith moved quickly out of reach of the blade's deadly tip. 

Releasing the lightning ball, it slammed into Obi-Wan sending the Jedi flying backward and crashing into a small, ornate table like a rag doll. Studying the dazed form, Sidious was ready to be done with it and mercilessly slammed the Jedi with bright arcs of blue dancing from his fingertips. 

Obi-Wan cried out but could not escape the attack.

"You have been a thorn in my side for too long," the dark lord growled continuing the attack. The Sith laughed cruelly as wave after wave of Force lightning exploded through the air. "It is a shame to kill you. A powerful ally you could be."

Obi-Wan screamed but still struggled against the jolts that were tearing through him. He reached for the lost saber hilt.

"I cannot let you do that," Sidious replied as the violent attack ceased and called Obi-Wan's lightsaber to him. "I could spare your life," the dark lord hissed and studied the singed figure lying in the midst of the broken table. "Stand at my side and we shall destroy the Jedi together."

All Obi-Wan could manage was a hoarse whisper before his head sank to the broken wood beneath him. "Never."

Unafraid of the trembling, weakened form, Sidious drew close to the Jedi curled up on the floor. A wicked laugh escaped the cowled form. "I am offering you life."

"I would rather die than serve the darkness," Obi-Wan groaned weakly through gritted teeth as the pain remained heavy in his face.

Sidious' lips drew into a tight, evil line. Discarding the Jedi's weapon the Sith gathered the darkness like a shroud and molded another Force lightning ball. The dark lord growled, "So be it." 

_______________

__

The Book of Fear

Qui-Gon cast out, seeking Anakin's presence just a few steps behind him. The boy was still groggy from the blow to the head and he was concerned, but Anakin insisted on racing back to the Naboo senator's apartment.

He could not fault the young man as he too sensed the danger looming just ahead and new their charge was unprotected. Her private guard had been suspiciously absent. Jogging around the corner, Qui-Gon came to a sudden stop. Obi-Wan's apprentice was guiding the dazed and singed visage of Padmé through the corridor. 

The Senator leaned heavily against the much smaller thirteen-year-old. Pain reflected in her eyes. "Master Jinn," she stumbled, too weak to carry a full sentence.

Anakin brushed passed his master reaching for the young woman before her strength finally gave out. Bali struggled to keep her from falling but Anakin pulled the injured woman into his arms. 

The Jedi master studied both the senator and the boy. "What happened?" he asked quickly, turning his senses toward corridor.

Bali's eyes widened in terror. Without answering, he turned and bolted back toward the apartment. With Force enhanced reflexes, Qui-Gon caught the boy's arm and pulled him back. He noted the singed appearance that Bali shared with Padmé. "What happened?" he demanded a second time. 

The little apprentice struggled against Qui-Gon's powerful grip. "This thing!" He cried out, terror filling his eyes as the adrenaline of the rescue quickly wore off. "The darkness. Lightning," he sputtered unable to answer coherently. "Let me go!" The apprentice fought harder as the panic tore through him.

The older man had to work to keep Bali from breaking loose. 

"It can't be my fault. Master Spex was wrong! I won't leave him." Bali finally broke free of the large hands that held him and raced down the hall. 

"Get her to safety," Qui-Gon barked to his own apprentice and then chased after the boy. The battle with the Sith had taken its toll and he struggled to keep up with the thirteen-year-old. Calling to the Force, he pushed himself ahead, catching Bali's arm just before the apprentice stormed back into the apartment.

Bali cried out as the Jedi master tossed him gently backward. "Stay," he ordered but knew it would barely slow the child down. Lightsaber in hand he plunged into the swirling darkness that had consumed the elegant apartment. He saw a dark shrouded figure and a bright flash of light. His very nerves snapped and sizzled with electricity as his world turned and twisted before slamming into something hard. At first, he thought he had hit the wall but then noted the rough fibers of the tightly woven carpet. 

"No!" Bali screamed. 

Still dazed, Qui-Gon sensed the Force move. 

Bali reached out before Sidious could react and slammed the Sith with a powerful Force push. The black shroud twisted as the dark lord was tossed across the room. 

"Master!" Bali called out, automatically throwing his lightsaber toward Obi-Wan who had immediately reacted upon the boy's return. 

The younger master reached up and called the weapon; his hand wavered unsteadily before the purple blade flashed to life. Struggling against the broken table and his injuries, Obi-Wan pulled himself to his feet.

Qui-Gon was on guard just a step behind as the two cornered the Sith Master. 

Sidious brought a hand up to protect the abdominal wound. "I will not fight both of you," the dark lord hissed. Raising his hand, he willed a powerful Force push that sent Qui-Gon flying backward slamming him hard into Bali. But before he could turn his dark powers on the injured Obi-Wan, the Jedi lunged at him.

The pale violet blade arced gracefully through the air as Obi-Wan brought to bear against Sidious. The saber cut through the shadow and tore into the wall. In shock, Obi-Wan twisted about but the Sith was gone. He kept turning about, searching for the Sith and slashing at the air but finally his strength waned. Trembling fingers lost their hold of the silver cylinder and the saber clattered to the floor.

"Master!" Bali cried out as he crawled over Qui-on and raced to a very unsteady Obi-Wan. He reached out worriedly and grasped his master's arm to keep him from falling over. "Master?"

Slowly Obi-Wan's gaze fell to his apprentice. "I told you to get the Senator to safety," he said slowly. His knees buckled and he fell to the floor with Bali still clutching his cloak to keep him from completely falling over. 

"She is safe," Bali argued. "The other padawan took her–"

Obi-Wan grabbed the little boy by the shoulders and shook him. Fear laced Bali's eyes but Obi-Wan did not seem to notice. "You did not do as I ordered," he said sternly.

"Master–"

"No!" Obi-Wan strained to keep his eyes focused on the boy. He shook Bali again, a little rougher this time. "I told you to get the Senator to safety." 

Bali withdrew slightly, but could not escape his master's tight hold. Bright green eyes struggled with shame. "The other–"

"I don't care about them. You disobeyed me."

"Master, please." Tears welled in Bali's eyes. "Master–"

"Obi-Wan," Qui-Gon said gently as he sat up. He felt the absolute terror radiating off the apprentice.

"Don't!" The young master said turned dull gray eyes on Qui-Gon. 

The tall Jedi master studied his former padawan for a moment. The material of Obi-Wan's cloak and tunic were badly damaged from the Sith's attack. He could only imagine what that had done to the younger man. 

"I'm sorry, Master," Bali wept. "I'm sorry." Tears fled down Bali's pale cheeks and he completely broke down. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry."

Obi-Wan's eyes closed briefly then fluttered open, struggling to maintain his attention on the weeping boy. 

"I'm sorry," Bali sobbed. 

"You were not supposed to come back," Obi-Wan said harshly. "You were supposed to take the Senator to safety."

"I'm sorry."

"How can I trust you if you–"

"No, no, Master. Don't," Bali wailed, clinging to the sleeves of Obi-Wan's cloak. 

Obi-Wan's breathing had grown shallow as he struggled to remain focused. The adrenaline rush gone, his voice was hoarse and showed his weariness. "How can I protect you if you won't listen to me?"

"Master Spex said," Bali threw himself forward breaking his master's weakened grip and wrapped his arms around Obi-Wan's chest, "if I didn't stay with you the Sith would kill you." The small apprentice buried his face against his master's singed tunic. "I don't want you to die. I had to come back. I could not leave you. I'm sorry. I'm sorry."

Obi-Wan brushed his fingers through Bali's damp, spiked hair. His hand slipped down to rest on the trembling shoulder. "It will be all right," he mumbled.

"Master?" Bali asked, loosening his grip slightly Obi-Wan fell backward onto the broken table. "Master!"

Qui-Gon was moving even before Obi-Wan began his fall but he was not quick enough. His bruised body no longer maintained the resilience of his youth. Still he was at the fallen Jedi's side in a flash. Rough, callused fingers quickly sought out a faint pulse along the younger master's neck allowing him to breathe a momentary sigh of relief. Without hesitation, he made an emergency call to the Temple's healing center. 

Then slowly, his attention fell to the worried apprentice desperately clutching Obi-Wan's hand. "I'm here, Master. I will not leave you." Bali repeated the short sentences like a mantra as he rocked nervously. "You will to be all right."


	5. 

__

Book of Flesh and Bone Part VI

"I don't think I can," Qin Luc wearily whispered. Her long fingers gripped Obi-Wan's shoulder for support. 

The knight turned to face the fragile visage of the biotech researcher. Lending a little Force compulsion to his voice, he said softly, "Yes, you can."

The Melorian nodded as Obi-Wan refined his support of the woman, helping her move more quickly through the narrow catacombs.

The blue glow of his lightsaber was the only light to fill the constantly twisting passageway. The knight would not have been using it if it were not for Qin Luc's terror at entering the pitch-black catacombs. She had been imprisoned in total darkness for so long even this little bit was too much. "We are almost out," he said evenly. "The transport is just beyond the edge of the tunnel."

The information seemed to give Qin Luc that extra needed burst of energy as she pressed forward toward the freedom that had eluded her for so long. 

The labyrinthine catacombs were clear of obstacles making Obi-Wan feel that they were not in as much disuse as he had been lead to believe. Still, they were empty and he sensed no immediate danger. 

The catacombs ran from the small Xim villages that encircled the larger, guarded Calor research facility. The ancient tunnels provided the Xim rebels perfect access into the colony to kidnap Qin Luc. The same access he had used to steal her back.

After a time of quiet travel, the golden evening light danced deep into the tunnel and Obi-Wan deactivated his weapon not choosing to draw anymore attention to them than needed.

Qin Luc faltered at the light. She withdrew slightly, covering her pale blue face. "It's been so long," she whispered tiredly. 

"I know." The knight reached over and pulled the ornate hood of the dingy Melorian long coat over her head to protect her from the still bright evening light. He had found the woman bound and imprisoned deep within a catacomb at the edge of the colony. She had been kidnapped from her apartment in the research colony. Her captors were against her research in biotech duplication–cloning of living body parts. "We will be out of here soon."

At the entrance, Obi-Wan cast out again searching the area for any threat. There was something mildly unsettling but he had felt that ever since he had arrived at the colony. Moving in a protective stance, Obi-Wan guided Qin Luc along the wall. Large shipping crates, long since abandoned, hid the entrance to the catacomb. They moved as quickly as she could.

As soon as they cleared the crates the dull gray of Obi-Wan's small transport waited at the far edge of the landing platform. He was relieved to see it, knowing soon that they would be leaving this place forever. For both, it would not be quick enough.

Qin Luc was slow and he had to take his time so not to drag the Melorian but time was not theirs to waste. 

The evening sun had sunk behind the massive legislative building casting a long shadow across the platform.

"We are going to have to run," he said softly as he maneuvered the researcher to the closest point along the wall to the transport. He glanced back at the Melorian who nodded weakly. 

Both started sprinting across the platform. 

They were half way to the ship when Obi-Wan called out on the Force to trigger the ship's loading ramp.

In a flash of light and sound the small craft exploded. A blast of heat and debris slammed into the knight and researcher sending them tumbling across the rough surface. Obi-Wan threw himself over the fallen woman as debris continued to rain down on them. 

When it was safe, Obi-Wan twisted around to see the burned out husk of his ship. He was reeling as he quickly tried to come up with another plan. "Are you all right?" he asked.

"Yes, I think so," Qin Luc said softly as the knight helped her to her unsteady feet. 

Intently studying his surroundings, Obi-Wan spun to check the catacomb entrance; concerned the Qin Luc's captors would realize she was gone and pursue. 

Before the warning manifested itself, a blaster bolt flew past his right ear, so close he could feel the heat. The bright flash of orange struck Qin Luc square in the chest. The woman made no sound. She was dead before she even hit the ground. 

In a single, fluid motion, Obi-Wan activated his lightsaber, bringing it up protectively. A swirl of emotions rose and then was quickly quelled at the sight of the researcher's killer. "Halla."

The dark haired woman stood in the shelter of a Seikhan corvette. Shadows danced on her face as the light twisted and glinted off the ship's silver body. In her hand, she tightly gripped the small blaster pointed at the knight. "I'm sorry."

Obi-Wan stole a glance at the dead researcher next to him. "How could you?" 

The soft, innocent features of her face had hardened. The lines deep with regret aged her. Instead of the usual brightly colored cloak, he had seen her in many times the last few days; she wore a deep, reddish brown one. It was almost invisible against the dark stone walls that protected the landing platform. Her grip on the blaster trembled slightly before she gained control and refined her aim. 

"I have to thank you for finding Qin Luc. It saved us the time and money paying her ransom just to have her killed." She frowned slightly. "I couldn't let you get away with her. She possesses too much information on my husband's research."

"So you resort to murder?" Obi-Wan could sense a weakness in her façade.

"What is one more death? I mean really I am responsible for so many."

Obi-Wan just stared at her.

"I can see it in your eyes; the shock and the horror so bright in them. You believe I betrayed the Order." She laughed weakly then shook her head. "Leave now. Go back to your precious Jedi. You will die if you stay here."

"Halla–"

"Don't tell me it was an accident!" she yelled the blaster in her hand quivered slightly. "They sent me on a dangerous mission to get hurt!" Her eyes reflected the pure rage she barely held in check. "If that woman got away she would destroy everything. My husband is working on a way to give me a second chance at having a family."

"Halla–"

"No!" She leveled the blaster. "I won't let you take this chance away from me again. Ighista knows about us. He knows, Obi-Wan. He's the one who set your ship to explode. He wants you dead."

Obi-Wan carefully shifted around slightly to study his surroundings. "And you?"

"Are a very good wife," Trocha interrupted as he and several large, heavily armed men surrounded the platform. 

Halla twisted to see her husband. Shock and hurt reflected in her green eyes. "What are you doing here?"

"Following you, of course." Trocha approached the woman. "I knew you wouldn't be too far away from your lover."

"That was a long time ago," Halla said quickly but a wave of Trocha's hand silenced her. 

The Master Healer paced about the platform, unconcerned with the fact the Obi-Wan was armed and ready to spring at any moment. "All my men are armed. They are expert sharp shooters. I promise you will be dead before you can even get close to me."

"Qin Luc is dead, what more do you want?" Obi-Wan growled, but his gaze never left Halla.

"Your life and those images you are protecting," Trocha replied coolly. 

Shock clouded Halla's face as she turned to her husband. "You said–"

"You did good, but he will still destroy everything I have built." Trocha studied his wife and gave her a gentle smile. "He will take away everything I have done for you." Approaching his wife, he cupped her chin and tilted her head up until her eyes met his. "I will make this be your choice, my wife."

Tears glistened in the bright green depths of Halla's eyes.

"Remember, it was the Jedi and their Council that put you in harm's way. Their actions sent you away from the Temple when you were pregnant. Your master that decided to mediate a truce between warring factions that got you injured when you should have been someplace safe. The Jedi did you no favors and they only welcomed you back after the injury and coma that took your unborn child away." Trocha shifted to glare at the cornered Jedi. "If he had loved you, he would have given up to Order and left, then you would be happy. You would have a family." Rough fingers brushed tears from her cheek. "I only want you to be happy, my wife. It is either the Jedi and all he represents or family."

Halla was quivering with grief. "Don't make me choose," she begged softly.

Obi-Wan searched the three armed men. He did not think he could escape them.

"Him or me?" Trocha pressed.

Still in possession of Jedi reflexes, Halla raised her hand and fired. Obi-Wan deflected the first but missed the second, taking it in the chest. The durasteel platform rattled with the force of his fall. Consciousness quickly fled.

Trocha's laughter echoed in the crisp evening air. "My beautiful, silly wife. Do you not think I can tell you stunned him?" He ripped the blaster out of her hand and switched it back to a more deadly setting. "I am tired of wasting time. Men!" He ordered.

Immediately the three men converged on the fallen knight.

________________________

Holonet Broadcasting Company

"early reports state that there was an attempted assassination of Senator Amidala of Naboo.

"Panic has filled the Senatorial towers and the governments of various worlds are boosting their Senator's security"

__

________________________

The Book of Warm Hearts

Anakin paced back and forth before the grand window of Padmé's senatorial apartment. He paused briefly to eye the traffic in the distance before beginning his trek again.

"I'm fine," Padmé said quickly as she pulled herself free of Sirceé and marched through the corridor from her private apartment into the public common room.

"Senator, you need to rest. The physician said you must take it easy," Sirceé pleaded as she chased after her defiant patient.

"I am fine," Padmé repeated a little more forcefully. She looked across the room at Anakin who was still unhappily pacing. Beyond him stood several heavily armed guards. Her security force had been tripled. Especially after her private guard apparently suffered mild amnesia. None of them remembered leaving their posts let alone why. They had all been found several floors below just staring aimlessly at the wall. She supposed it was a necessary precaution. Yet, she carefully glanced about the room looking for any other members of her beefed up security. The Chancellor himself had added two SAA-12 security droids. Their flat black armored bodies scared her. The droids carried more weapons each than her private guards did together. She understood that they were to patrol the corridors outside her apartment.

Blessed spirits please keep her from facing those machines. 

She would request the Chancellor assign them elsewhere. She did not want them with Anakin Skywalker watching over her. She turned on her assistant. "Leave me."

"But–"

"Leave me," she demanded. Quietly she waited until she had been left alone then slowly continued her trek into the room. Everything felt a little unsteady and completely weak but she made herself continue to stand. Slowly she walked to where Anakin was pacing. "I told the security, the investigators, the Chancellor's people and anyone else who asked. I told your master and the Jedi Council. Now tell me, what attacked me?"

Anakin stopped and stared at her. A tiny, pinkish mark was all that remained of the gash above his eyebrow that Vengier had inflicted. "You were attacked by a Sith."

"Yes, I know that. Master Yoda said that. What is a Sith?" she demanded but her authority wavered as a momentarily fainting spell seduced her.

Anakin was at her side immediately. 

She felt lighter than air as he scooped her up and took her back to the private side of her apartment. "You don't have to carry me," she complained softly.

"I can't have you falling down and hurting yourself. It wouldn't look good having you hurt twice on my watch."

"It wasn't your fault," Padmé replied as she was carried back into her bedroom.

"I should have been more vigilant."

Padmé heard the anger in the young man's voice at his failure. Gently, she wrapped her arms around Anakin's strong shoulders. "Don't blame yourself. This Sith was powerful, right?"

"There were two."

Padmé brushed her fingers down Anakin's forehead, touching the pinkish, healing skin. "Is that how you got that?"

"Yes."

A fearful look found her eyes. "But they got away."

"I promise we will find them. They will never harm you again."

__

___________________

The Book of Master and Padawan Part IV

Soft footsteps glided over a well-worn path in the small waiting area of the mind healing center. Obi-Wan twisted about, his anxiety getting the best of him. Stopping, he glanced around the dull amber walls. Even mid morning, he was the only one there, which suited the agitated knight just fine. Last think he needed was some gossiping busybody watching him have a mental breakdown. 

Obi-Wan stopped and glanced at the light fixtures on the wall opposite the windows. He was just being silly, he told himself. Still he felt like someone was watching. This was no different than the regular healing center a floor below and for that reason alone, it was enough to set him on edge.

The bench seats were not comfortable and besides he preferred to pace just in case he suddenly decided to run. He stopped and shook his head. Thinking like that is not going to make matters any better. He had promised Bali he would do this. Even if everything inside him demanded he rebel. He needed to get control off himself.

The first thing he decided was he needed to calm down. Facing Master Healer Lorus while agitated would do little for his case. Slowly the Jedi turned to the row of narrow windows that lined one wall of the waiting room. It stared down over the hydroponics garden. The protective dome glowed with the lively green of plant life and wished he were in the safety of a mediation garden. All those times he had sought Yoda's advice was in the gardens. That was all he needed to get through. 

"Excuse me," the senior padawan from the reception desk said from the doorway she waited in.

Obi-Wan twisted to greet the red haired girl but his gaze quickly dropped to the eight-year-old held in place by a firm grip on his shoulder. "Does this little one belong to you?" she asked. 

Bali smiled nervously and before Obi-Wan could respond, pulled free of the padawan's grip and raced to his master's side. 

"Yes," Obi-Wan replied curiously as he looked down at the boy who stared back at the girl worriedly. "You should be in class."

The girl replied, "Master Lorus had him brought in." She hesitated for a moment. Worry fluttered across her deep blue eyes. "It is for the master/padawan review. That is why you are here, is it not?"

For a time, Obi-Wan just stared at her. "Honestly, I am not sure."

"Well, that is what the appointment book says," she said quickly before retreating from the room leaving the two alone.

Obi-Wan frowned before folding himself into the warmth of his cloak. It did not go unnoticed that Bali imitated the action, except he was not wearing a cloak. 

"I have never been here," Bali said quickly as he glanced around the room. Bright green eyes studied the plainly decorated amber interior but he did not venture from his place at his master's side. "I have not been many places though," he admitted.

Carefully Obi-Wan reached out and brushed his fingers through the little boy's dark spiked hair.

"Master!" Bali cried out plaintively as he struggled to fix his hair. He then broke up into giggles falling up against his master. 

The little apprentice's giggles were infectious bringing a smile to Obi-Wan's weary face. It would not be so bad if Bali were there with him, he decided.

"Master?"

"Yes, Padawan?"

"Why are we here?"

The Jedi sighed softly. "Master Lorus wants to make sure we are all right," Obi-Wan answered as he sat down on one of the bench seats. From there, he could better face the small eight-year-old.

Bali screwed up his face in concentration. "I feel fine." He looked around carefully, then whispered, "Is he going to give us shots?"

"No, only Bant does that."

"Good, I don't like shots."


	6. 

__

The Book of Lost Arguments

Small stocking footed feet padded across the tiled floor. 

They stopped before a sealed door with authorized personnel warnings on it. 

Bali stared up at the obstacle. He then approached but the door did not open. He pushed at the silver door but it did not move. He stomped his foot against the panel on the floor but it still did not make the door open. Sighing, he folded his arms across his chest, the material of the gray tunic pulled uncomfortably and smelled too much like the healing center.

Not that the smell would be fixed, after all he was in the healing center. Again he shoved at the door but it did not budge.

"What are you doing out of bed?" Bant called out as she marched into the waiting room of the bacta chamber.

"Master," Bali said, but did not turn to greet the healer. His attention remained focused on the door. He still felt bad from the Sith attack but it did not matter, he was worried about his master.

Bant grabbed his arm and pulled him backward. "Bali–"

"I want to see my Master!" The boy argued.

The healer sighed as she knelt but did not let go of Bali's arm. "You cannot go in there."

"Master–"

"Is in bacta. He was hurt very badly."

"I know," Bali whimpered. Of course he knew, he was there when the Sith monster attacked and nearly killed his master. He was there. "I want to see him."

"No." 

"Bant!" Bali cried out, but his weariness showed through.

"You belong in bed."

"I feel fine."

"No, you don't."

Well, she was right about that, but it did not mean he wanted to see his master any less. 

"He is going to be all right," Bant said softly. "Check your training bond."

"He's not awake."

"But you can feel him there."

Bali thought about it for a moment, he reached across the bond and found the warm familiarity of his master at the other side. All he could feel was Obi-Wan. No emotion, no pain, no thoughts came to him but his master was there. Bali wandered what he would do if he ever lost that sense of his master. "Is he okay?"

"He will be," Bant answered. "It's going to take him a while to recover though."

The apprentice turned back to the locked door. 

Bant wrapped a hand gently around the boy's. "Listen to me, you terror, Obi-Wan will be royally upset when he wakes up from his bacta nap." She winked and grinned. "You know how much he loves bacta treatments." The thirteen-year-old giggled. Bant continued, "So I don't want him even more upset with me because you won't get your much needed rest."

"I want to stay here."

"No." She stood up, still keeping her hand tight around Bali's. "After you take a nap, I might let you in for a few minutes."

"Okay," he grumbled as Bant pulled him from the room. 

They barely made it into the corridor when Bant suddenly stopped. "I was under the impression you had been released."

The tenseness in Bant's voice brought Bali's attention away from the bacta chamber. He had to look way up to see the face of Qui-Gon Jinn blocking the corridor. 

The tall Jedi Master's gaze slipped from the healer to the apprentice, whose hand Bant still clutched tightly. 

"I had a meeting with the Council and I thought I would check in to see how Obi-WanMaster Kenobi is recovering."

"He is still in bacta," Bant answered quickly.

Her reply left Bali to wonder if he was missing out on something.

Qui-Gon nodded slightly. 

Bant twisted to see Bali's tired face. "Come on, let's get you back to bed where you belong." She pulled on Bali's hand leading him around Qui-Gon.

"Healer Eerin," Qui-Gon called out softly as he turned to face her.

Sighing, Bant stopped. "Yes?"

He motioned toward Bali. "May I?"

The healer's silver eyes flashed and blinked curiously. She looked at Bali. "It is up to you."

Bali studied the older Jedi. The one who had taught his master. He did not seem like a bad person and they were in the Temple where it was safe. He then looked to Bant, noting the determination in her look. She would be close by. "Okay."

At first Bant hesitated, as if not wanting to let him go but then she finally loosened her grip. "I want you in bed and resting."

"I am not tired," Bali argued. 

"Yes," she poked his nose, "that may be so, but you got zapped really good. Besides, Obi-Wan would be upset if you did not take care of yourself while he's out."

Bali nodded.

Bant turned her attention on Qui-Gon where she whispered softly, "If you cause him any undue stress, I promise your next visit here will be very unpleasant."

"I would not," Qui-Gon replied firmly.

"You will have to forgive me if I do not take you too seriously." She bowed and retreated toward the healer's station.

The apprentice looked up at the tall master who was curiously studying him. Unsettled by the gaze, Bali checked around the corridor and then checked his sleep tunic and trousers to make sure he was dressed right. After all, his brain was still fuzzy and he could have forgotten to put his pants on. 

"Is there something wrong?" Qui-Gon asked.

The apprentice quickly checked his unevenly spike hair. "When Master looks at me like that it is usually because I am doing something silly."

Qui-Gon chuckled. "No, my young friend, I was just thinking how much you remind me of Obi-Wan when he was your age."

Bali laughed as he started back toward his room. "Master was never my age."

____________________

The Book of Master and Padawan Part V

__

Bali had curled himself up on the bench and was leaning heavily against Obi-Wan's side. He sighed loudly but did not relinquish his position.

For Obi-Wan's part he did not mind. Although he knew it was improper form when a padawan is with his master, but they were not in public and he decided it would not hurt. The boy was nervous about the meeting. He _was scared to death of it. _

It could not hurt. Bali tucked his chin against the folds of Obi-Wan's cloak and offered up a gentle smile that Obi-Wan could not help but to return. "This will not last too long, my Padawan."

"Yes, Master."

At least that was what Obi-Wan hoped. He would be much happier the moment the session was over.

A door opposite the one to the reception desk opened and a large Mon Calamari male stood there. His skin was more olive colored and his eyes were grayer than Bant's gentle, silver eyes. Master Lorus Anell was a figure that might even make Bant cringe. 

His cool gaze settled on the master and padawan who quickly stood and Bali fell into his proper place at his master's side.

"Kenobi. Tiro." He barked as if addressing the troops.

Obi-Wan tensed, then he felt the brush of Bali's thoughts through the fledgling training bond. The bond itself was strong, sometimes more so than the young master would like, but it was new to the eight-year-old. Bali was not accustomed to accessing it so the thoughts were always timid and unsure when they bled through. He reached out to the small figure at his side and pressed a comforting hand to Bali's shoulder. 

The two followed the large mind healer into a narrow corridor that felt way too claustrophobic for Obi-Wan's liking. 

Lorus stopped and motioned them through into a small office. More of the amber walls surrounded them. The young master decided he was really getting to hate that color. 

"Sit," Lorus said gruffly as he found his place behind the large desk that dominated the small space. 

Obi-Wan and Bali sank to the bench on the other side. The ginger haired Jedi wondered why there was an abundance of benches.

"It keeps you from getting too comfortable," Lorus said. 

Again a wash of tenseness flooded through Obi-Wan as he started tightening his shields. 

"Everyone asks that," Lorus replied, noting the other's reaction. He shuffled through some work before pulling a data pad close. After what seemed like a lifetime, Lorus returned his attention to the master and padawan. He focused on Bali. "Padawan Tiro."

"Yes, Master?" Bali wiggled slightly then straightened to face the imposing mind healer.

Lorus studied his notes and looked curiously at the boy. He returned to his notes. "Bali Tiro?"

"Yes, Master," Bali replied looking back curiously.

"Is there something the matter?" Obi-Wan asked cautiously.

"No," Lorus gruffly replied. He placed the data pad to the side and studied the boy again. "Tell me, Padawan Tiro, what do you think of your living quarters?"

Obi-Wan watched Bali wiggle excitedly.

"It is much bigger than the dorms. Quieter too."

"Is it too quiet?"

"Not noisy like the dorms," Bali quickly answered.

Lorus considered the answer. "Tell me what you day is like."

Bali thought about it for a while. "The whole day?"

"A normal day."

The small apprentice screwed his face up in concentration then relaxed slightly. "I wake up."

"Good, go on."

Obi-Wan struggled to remain calm, unsure why the mind healer wanted a detail of the boy's day.

"Then Master and I meditate."

"First thing?"

"After I get dressed first."

"Okay." Lorus' gray gaze turned to the master for a moment before returning to Bali. "Why do you meditate?"

"To consider the night before and to think about my nightmares and to prepare for the day."

"Nightmares?" Lorus asked as Obi-Wan looked at the boy curiously. "Did you know?" he questioned the younger master.

"He has disturbing dreams. Wakes him up once a week."

"Is this true, Padawan Tiro?"

Bali nodded.

"Go on."

The eight-year-old squirmed a little then settled down. "We go to the cafeteria for breakfast. I like the purple berries."

"You do not prepare meals in your apartment?"

Bali gave a curious look. "Master does not cook."

"Doesn't want to?"

"He burns stuff and it never tastes right."

Lorus nodded slightly. "He's a bad cook?"

Bali grinned and nodded enthusiastically.

"What do you do after you eat?" Lorus unmercifully continued with the questioning.

"I go to the gym and then I have my morning classes with Master He." Bali thought for a moment. "Then I meet with Padawan Gur'Abo. She is my tutor for my morning classes." He waited but Lorus did not interrupt. "I go to lunch."

"By yourself?"

"Sometimes I eat with Master, but mostly I eat with my friends."

"Do you have a lot of friends?"

Obi-Wan shifted giving the older master a hard look.

Lorus ignored him.

"Awar is my best friend."

"What about after lunch?"

"I have saber practice with Master."

"Have you learned a lot?"

Bali nodded. "I am learning the fourth kata."

Again Lorus studied his notes as Obi-Wan gave the boy a reassuring smile. He was worried; after all at Bali's age he should be learning the sixth by now. And yet, the bright green eyes showed only that he was proud of his accomplishment and was not worried that he was behind his other age mates.

"What do you do after practice?" Lorus continued.

"Master and I meditate so I can learn from my mistakes and calm myself after the exercise. Then I meet with my friends." Bali thought for a moment before continuing without being prompted. "Then I have to study." It was obviously not one of his favorite things by the grumbling tone of voice.

"Does your master help you?"

Bali quickly nodded. "He explains stuff really well." Grinning, Bali looked to Obi-Wan's worried expression. 

"And then?" Lorus pressed.

"We go to the gardens to meditate. I like the one with the big waterfall. And then we go and eat in the cafeteria when it is not so busy. Sometimes Bant eats with us."

"Healer Bant," Obi-Wan gently corrected.

"Healer Bant." Bali laughed. "She is really funny."

Lorus just looked dully at the quiet master. "These are not professional visits, I assume?"

"We have been friends since we were children," Obi-Wan answered dutifully. "I am not under a healer's care."

The mind healer made a notation in his records. Obi-Wan just frowned. Lorus focused on Bali again. "Then what?"

"Just stuff," Bali shrugged.

"Like what?"

"Different things." Again, the boy shrugged.

"What did you do last night?" the mind healer pressed.

"We went up to the little room above the Council room. There are chairs and pictures on the wall I had never seen before."

Lorus turned a curious gaze to Obi-Wan.

In almost a perfect imitation of Bali, Obi-Wan shrugged. "When I was his age, Master Yoda showed me the carvings in the stone. No one knows why the builders left them there. The words are in an ancient dialect. Master Yoda said no one even knows where the inscription came from or how to read it. The room goes unoccupied until someone decides to devote time to the study."

"Why take him there?"

"Why not? Bali went from the crèche to initiate housing and wandering the main corridors and primary facilities. Why not show him one of the Temple's many secrets. He can't harm it and maybe it will give him something to think about."

For a time, Lorus considered Obi-Wan's answer then turned back to Bali. "What other stuff do you do?"

"We watch the skyways after dark from the different towers. Sometimes we go to the archives and just walk through the stacks. Madame Nu thinks I'm going to know the archives as well as she does before long." The boy giggled at the thought. "But I don't want to work there. It is like a big maze and I don't want to get lost."

Lorus made another note to Obi-Wan's dismay. "What do you do after your Temple explorations?"

"Relax a little. Sometimes play with friends. Then more mediation and I go to bed."

"That seems like a very full day," Lorus noted absently. "Do you ever feel like you just need a break and not do anything?"

"No. I like to walk around the Temple with Master. My friends don't know anything about the Temple." Bali looked to Obi-Wan with a hint of worry, then the look vanished into a happy, contented expression.

"Do you like your master?" Lorus asked after another stretch of silence.

"Yes," Bali answered quickly.

"What if I told you there was another Jedi who would just love to be your master."

Bali made a little face of concern and leaned against Obi-Wan's arm. "I like my master."

"You won't give him up?"

"No."

Lorus added something else to the notes. 

Obi-Wan could feel Bali's stress at the last few questions rise terribly. He carefully reached through the training bond and touched the little boy's mind. He immediately felt Bali grasp the tendril and he sent boy waves of reassurance.

Bali immediately eased.

The mind healer noted the silent exchange and leaned back in his seat. He motioned to Bali. "Come around here." With a little hesitation, Bali obeyed. Lorus showed him something on the data pad. He then flipped on a small holoimager on the desk and a clown appeared. It juggled a couple of activated lightsabers effortlessly. While Bali's attention was focused on the clown, Lorus turned back to Obi-Wan. "What did I show Bali?"

"A kaari bird, I think. I doubt Bali has ever seen one. It was dark blue with a long feathered tail."

"Remarkable. Kaari birds are usually red." Lorus made another note then shut the juggling clown off. "Padawan Tiro, wait for your master outside in the waiting room."

Bali looked worried.

"It is all right, Padawan," Obi-Wan reassured.

After Bali had left, Lorus spoke again. "I am surprised by the intensity of a training bond at this early stage in your partnership."

"Not nearly as surprised as I am."

"You do not want a training bond?"

Obi-Wan frowned. "Of course I do with Bali. I justit is hard to accept another one."

Lorus made another note. "The records on Bali Tiro are a far cry from the child in the waiting room. Evidently you are doing something correct."

"Was there concern?"

"Yes." Lorus studied the other man. "Frankly I am concerned about putting a child in your care, especially one with his needs." The mind healer paused to make another addition to his already lengthy notes. "Normally I do not require a check up on the relationship until at least six months have passed."

"Unless?"

"Unless a problem has been reported."

"And?" Obi-Wan grew wary of the answer.

"Tell me, Master Kenobi. Is there a problem?"

"No."

Lorus nodded. "The child is progressing nicely. I find it is easiest to allow a young padawan to talk about their relationship with their master. They are not as defensive and will freely offer up all kinds of interesting bits of information. I myself may have to visit the room above the Council chambers out of curiosity. Were he defensive I would look for the source of the problem, but Bali was not."

Obi-Wan relaxed slightly.

"Now, for you."

Straightening slightly but the young master did not allow the mind healer see or feel his powerful mental shielding lock into place. 

Lorus smiled. "It was never about the child. He just made getting you through the door the first time easier. You can thank Master Windu for that, he used all his favors up with me. I would not have brought the child in at all."

"I don't understand." 

"Although," Lorus continued the thought, "it did make for an interesting study. Until the child was brought into the waiting room, you were highly agitated. I admit that most who come here do not do it completely willingly and they are anxious, but you were radiating a very threatening presence. You had that poor girl at the reception desk scared witless."

Obi-Wan quickly glanced away. He had not realized it and wondered if he projected that toward Bali.

"The boy does not fear you," the mind healer replied as if reading his thoughts, "which is more than I can say for quite a few Temple residents. That does not change the fact that there is something very wrong with you that you react to situations like that. You must seek treatment if for no other reason than for Bali's sake." When Obi-Wan did not answer, Lorus continued, "Twice a week for now. Choose a time that does not disrupt your schedule with the boy."

"And if I do not?"

"I would hate to break up an already strong relationship, but it would be unfair to leave the child in a potentially unstable relationship."

Obi-Wan lowered his head slightly and sighed. "Mornings, while he is in class."


	7. 

__

The Book of Whispers

Bali's feet swung just above the tiled floor. He leaned back in the chair and sighed as he dully watched the constant movement of his feet. Nervous fingers lightly toyed with the edge of his singed cloak. He was happier back in his own clothing, even if the cloak smelled like some of his master's cooking.

Bant had deemed him well enough to go back to his apartment. He had looked forward to sleeping in his own bed, but when he got there he was still so worried about his master he barely slept a wink. Master Windu had sat in the common room meditating or reading through the night. 

The tall master–who claimed to be an excellent chef–was going to cook breakfast but there was little food in the apartment so they opted to eat in the cafeteria instead. After a semi normal morning routine, it ended when he did not go to class. Mace had explained to him that he needed to answer a few more questions about the Sith attack.

He had answered a lot of questions and all through the questioning, he had dearly wished that his own master were there to stand with him. Mace had assured him that he had done nothing wrong but they needed the information and could not put it off until his master was well enough to answer. 

Mercifully, he did not have to stand before the Council. He was taken to a small chamber with just Mace and Yoda in attendance. There were holocameras for the rest of the Council to see what was going on.

Afterwards, he returned to the bacta waiting room. He was not supposed to be there, but Bali did not care. His master was still in a bacta tank and that was all that mattered.

Bant had explained that his master needed to stay in there a little longer just to help him recover easier. His injuries were healed for the most part but she said that his master would feel like he did–dazed and confused–for a little while. In fact, it would probably be worse since he got zapped harder.

All Bali really knew was he did not like that mushy brained feeling. It made him feel like he had forgotten his head somewhere and everything just felt a little off. Master Yoda told him that was normal, or so he had heard. And if Master Yoda said it was okay, then it must be because Yoda knew everything.

The only thing Bali was sure of was that his master was not going to be very happy when he woke up covered in bacta. The thought gave the boy something to giggle about. 

A small part of him could not wait until his master was awake and arguing with Bant. He was certain they had to be very good friends because he had never heard two people talk so terribly to one another and still like each other. 

Another thing he knew was Bant did not like Master Jinn. Yet, the apprentice did not understand why, he seemed like a nice enough person. He took him back to his room the other night and told him stories until he finally fell asleep. Of course, Bali had heard many of the same stories because his master had told them but he did not mind. The gray haired master was gone when he woke but that was all right. Bant was there, teasing him about his hair being mashed.

A soft tapping echoed through the sterile environment. 

Bali looked through the door and down the hall just in time to see Master Yoda hobbling his way. He quickly stood up and adopted the proper stance when greeting a venerable master.

The little green figure walked into the room and paused long enough to study the boy. "Sit, you will," he ordered.

Bali hesitated but then took his place back in his seat.

"Feeling better, are you?" Yoda asked as he stopped in front of the sitting child.

Immediately Bali nodded. "Yes, Master."

"Good." The little master straightened slightly to look at the quiet boy. "Recover, your master will," he said with reassurance in his voice.

Bali nodded. "I know." But his expression did not change. "I just want to be here."

"Hmm." Yoda's ears twitched as his big yellow eyes carefully studied the singed cloak the boy wore. "Like your master, you are. Always clinging to a damaged cloak." He grabbed a burned hem and tugged on it lightly. "New cloak you need."

"I just have–"

"No excuses," Yoda snapped then eased his expression into a friendly little smile. "Worried you are, I know. See to it I shall a new cloak you get."

"Thank you, Master," Bali lowered his head in a partial bow. 

"Hear I do of dreams you have," Yoda said in an effort to take the boy's mind off of his worries.

"Nightmares," Bali said softly.

"Hmm. Tell me," Yoda half whispered and he leaned forward as if a secret was about to be exchanged.

"There was a monster." Bali paused briefly as he glanced around, afraid someone might over hear. "It chases me. Wants me to be its padawan. It felt like the Sith in the Senator's apartment, but it was not that one." He looked to Yoda and little master stood there quietly studying the boy. "Master said it is a nightmare. Are they not supposed to go away?"

Yoda thought for a moment, then gently reached out, pressing a green hand to the nervous boy's arm. "Nightmare or vision, it cannot hurt you. Examine it, you must to understand it."

"How?" Bali asked hopefully. His bright green eyes reflected so many uncertain emotions. 

"Ask it."

______________________

__

The Book of One Sided Conversations

Bant leaned back in the rather uncomfortable chair she had spent the last two hours perched in and expected to spend the rest of the night in. She stretched slightly then returned to the review of her notes. She had taken a detour from her usual study of Force healing as an injury to look up Sith lightning attacks. 

The diffused lighting of the room made reading difficult. She tilted the data pad her notes were gathered on to better read but still the dim light made it too hard. Sighing loudly, she sought out a small lamp affixed to the wall. Calling gently on the Force, Bant moved it so its warm yellow glow cascaded over her.

"It has been nearly two hours since we pulled you from that lovely bacta tank. I know, you much rather stay in there, then you would not have to listen to me, answer questions from the Council or deal with Master Jinn. Yes, I know you really wanted to sit down and carry on a nice long, happy conversation with _him_. He asks about you almost every day. Shocking, huh?" She frowned slightly. "He and Bali apparently had a nice conversation the other evening. Bali never screamed for help so I assume he isn't permanently damaged. So don't yell at me when you wake up."

The healer scrolled through her notes but did not really read them. Her thoughts were not on her research.

"I am surprised that Bali is not camped out in here. I guess old Mace finally got wise to that slippery little padawan of yours. I still say you will be the ruin of him." She chortled softly. "Poor kid." She looked up from her research as a strange thought took hold over her. "Have you ever noticed how much the little guy looks like you? I mean, Bali acts like you, which is a tragedy in and of itself, but his little brows knit together in determination just like yours. He has that roguish grin that is going to break so many hearts when he is older." She paused realizing how ridiculous that line of thought was. It was rather common for people to find similarities in master/padawan teams. "Then again, all you humans sort of look alike."

Not receiving an answer, she continued, "I guess every time Mace turned around, Bali had escaped his watch and returned to the waiting room." Gently, she reached out and adjusted the covers on the medical sleep couch. Her silvery gaze settled on her sleeping friend. "I think I am starting to enjoy this. The conversation is so much better when you are unconscious."

Bant knew being so cavalier was not necessary. There was no one to hear her. Or at least no one who was awake that cared. She could not help her worry. Her friend was hurt and all the healing arts could do little to help him. Her silver gaze studied the unconscious form next to her. 

Obi-Wan had curled up on his side. A pale hand trembled as it tightly clutched at the multiple layers of blankets that Bant had brought in just for him. His face was distorted into a mask of pain as sweat beads glistened on his forehead. 

Unable to help herself, the healer rested a salmon colored hand against his quivering shoulder and gently massaged the dark blue blanket. She then peeled away the covers revealing a gray sleep tunic. Fingering around the folds, she exposed the nape of his neck revealing a small pale yellow square patch. She rubbed the square hoping to allow more of the painkiller to absorb into his skin. When he relaxed slightly, she let up. 

Carefully tucking the material back into place, she returned to her notes but did not spend her time reading them. "Mace announce that he should be run through with a lightsaber if he ever considered taking on another padawan. Bali has worn him out. Can you imagine what a terror the little guy would be if he were well? Oh, wait, you do know. Persistent little monster, isn't he? Reminds me of someone else I know."

Her fingers gently brushed through Obi-Wan's damp ginger hair. "He's still a little bit out of it, probably just worried about you more than anything. But he was pretty confused and disoriented for a while. I suspect you are going to be just as fun for the next few days. Let's just hope you don't forget to put your pants on like he did." Her silver eyes blinked unhappily at the lack of response.

"You should be waking up any time. In fact, you should be awake now." 

The only answer she received was a soft groan.

"They brought you in on a pallet like a big old roasted marmaluke. A little too crispy for my likings."

Obi-Wan shivered and tugged at his blankets. 

Bant sighed as she laid the data pad down on the little table next to the bed. "When you wake up we are going to have a long talk about why you are sneaking in here to have Master Dirad treat your injuries. Do you have any idea how upsetting it is to be handed your considerably large medical file and find dozens of visits listed in the last few years and not know about a one? Why didn't you tell me?" Knowing she would not get an answer she sank back into the chair. It would not do any good to yell at him. Conscious or not, she would get the same answer: silence.

"Maybe I should not complain too much. At least you are trying to take care of yourself. I think I will have to thank Bali for that."

__________________

The Book of Temple Ghosts Part IV

__

Centuries ago, Yoda had decided he had lived too long. In his long lifetime he had seen things he wished upon no living being. He had been witness to great many changes in the Republic and the universe in general. He had lost far too many friends to the onward march of time, yet always he remained. 

Too many times over the last several decades, he wished that he could join the Force to be with those long gone but he knew there was a reason for his continued existence. 

Dark times loomed in the twilight years of his life, this he knew without question. Things he had hoped never to witness, never to be a part of were slowly encroaching into his world and he felt helpless to stop it for the Force did not offer up such answers. Only the painful knowledge of things to be, time had marched on and the dark tides lapped the edges of existence. The Force often whispered of a catastrophic event that loomed dangerously close to the horizon but he did not know what it was or from where it came. He feared the loneliness that seemed to cling to the unforeseeable future.

The burden of precognition had always haunted him but never so much as it had now. He feared before his life was over he would know the destruction of all he held dear. 

And yet, there was a glimmer at the edge of all the darkness that gave him hope; it was intangible and so distant that he could not grasp it. At times it glowed so bright, the light so pure and white that it was blinding. Sometimes, while in deep mediation, he sensed two glimmers of hope. Neither more real than the other, but deep contemplation never allowed him to understand their purposes or why they both existed. Sometimes, the little master wondered if they were not two destinies: one to be fulfilled and one to fail. 

Sometimes, he decided, he thought too much about what will be and too little about what is.

The only thing he knew for sure was that as long as his body held breath he would continue to serve the Force in whatever scheme it had laid out for him. 

Soft footsteps drew the ancient master's attention away from his deep thoughts and he turned to greet the young man that quietly approached. A solemn expression clung heavily to the twenty-year-old's features.

Obi-Wan stopped in the center of the empty conference room that Yoda had sequestered himself in for some private meditation time. The apprentice glanced around the room although Yoda knew the young man had all ready scanned it for other presences. Slowly he turned his gaze on the small master and bowed. "Master Yoda."

"Disturbed, you are." There was no reason for preamble. He knew why Obi-Wan was there. 

The apprentice straightened but said nothing. He glanced around the room as if detached from his surroundings, reminding Yoda of a very young initiate that had wiggled his way out of the crèche's protective surroundings and gotten lost deep within the Temple. The Force had led him to the ginger haired boy back then as it had brought the child, now a young man, to him.

Yoda lightly tapped his gimer stick on the side of his chair. "Plead with me on Padawan Keizian, will you?" He shook his head sadly. "Know the consequences of your actions you did. Ignored them any way."

"Master–"

"Argue your case before the Council!" Yoda snapped, roughly pounding the walking stick against the side of the chair for effect. "Beg for my mercy in private you will not." There was no reason to pander about with things neither one could control.

"I understand," Obi-Wan answered softly. He tried to fold his arms across his chest but it felt awkward so he allowed them to fall to his side. "Master and I have been called before the Council. I expect to be sent away just like Halla."

"For a time," Yoda replied, his usual serene calmness having returned. "Required, it normally is."

"Yes, Master."

Yoda turned his sleepy yellow eyes to the emptiness of the room and sighed softly. "Why you are here, it is not," he said in his gravelly voice.

"Why are you blocking us?" The question was spoken quickly, not allowing time for doubt to creep into the young man's mind as to whether it should be voiced or not.

The little master stirred the gimer stick quietly for a time. "You would demand an answer, I wondered when." His ears drooped slightly as his sleepy gaze returned to Obi-Wan. "Forbidden contact with each other, you are. All contact." It was a policy far older than he was; it was not to be bent even if the Force whispered to him that some rules are meant to be broken. His heightened senses and knowledge of wounded love–after all, he was flesh and blood all the same–told him that was the answer the apprentice sought. He also felt the young man's shields move to block his gentle probing. "Know this, you already do," he reminded.

Obi-Wan's gaze dropped and he rubbed his face tiredly. Yoda immediately recognized the weariness of one who had meditated, desperately seeking answers to questions of a torn heart but received none at all. 

"A great burden troubles you," the little master said softly.

In an instant, Obi-Wan was across the conference room. He fell to his knees before Yoda's chair. The little master saw the lines at the edge of his eyes that seemed to have appeared since he saw the young man the day before. "Halla wants to leave the Order, Master," Obi-Wan half whispered as if fearing the repercussions of such a statement.

"Hmm." Yoda had long expected that to be the fate of Padawan Keizian. "Troubled she has always been. Strong willed. Dangerous in her own recklessness." That was not what Obi-Wan wanted to hear and the little master knew it. "On her own, this decision she must make."

"She wants me to go with her."

Ah, there was the rub. In those pale blue eyes of the padawan kneeling before him, Yoda saw great uncertainty. The kind he never imagined to see in this particular young man. "Decided have you?"

Obi-Wan shook his head sadly. "I don't know what to do. Meditation has brought me no peace. I fear I have little time to decide."

"Hmm." Yoda thought for a moment. "Love her, do you?"

"Yes, Master," Obi-Wan softly replied.

"Want to be with her."

"Yes." Difficult questions they were but he sensed the open honesty in the young man's words.

"Ah, but a Jedi you desire to be."

Obi-Wan stared at the ancient master for a time. "Yes, with all my heart."

"Why question this, do you?"

Obi-Wan shook his head and slumped forward slightly. "Master," the word just trailed off. "I do not know anything else. All I have ever desired to be is a Jedi. How do I not to be one?" He sighed or maybe sobbed. The invisible weight seemed to grow heavier against his already heavily burdened shoulders. "My heart tells me that I belong here. The Force tells me that I belong here. But there is something, within my being that does not feel right, it demands that I should go with her. They both feel like the right thing and I know I can only accept one life. It is either Halla or the Order."

For a time, Yoda studied the uncertain child. Always had he known that the Force had placed some great importance upon his unsuspecting head. 

"Difficult decision this is," Yoda said firmly. "A great loss it would be to the Jedi were you to leave."

Obi-Wan looked up, his eyes bright with curiosity. Yoda meant what he had said.

"What about Halla?" The young man asked.

Yoda sensed the worry bleeding through tightly drawn shields and a part of the little master understood that maybe he was being allowed in. That maybe he was the one voice that would decide the young man's fate. "Trust that she is strong, in will and the Force. She must find her own place and you can do nothing for her until then." He wanted to advise the young man that he felt the will of the Force would make things right. That he must have patience for he will have gained much more than he lost. And yet, in the distant corners of Yoda's mind a shadow remained that he feared could destroy all that could have been and possibly would be.

"Master?"

"Tell me," Yoda said softly, "what do you want?"

"To be a Jedi." There was no doubt, no waver in his voice although the uncertainty remained in his eyes.

"Do this you must." He paused briefly, questioning what he would say next. "More important, nothing is." 

Obi-Wan nodded.

The little master sighed loudly as his ears drooped. That conviction must never be allowed to waver. "Demands of you, the Force has made, this I have foreseen. Promise though, I will. Make this journey easy on you if I can." All that mattered now was the young man's conviction to remain in the Order, for if that wavered, the ancient one feared all would be lost.


	8. 

__

The Book of Hangovers

Obi-Wan had been dreaming. He had dreamed of being an apprentice jumping into the waters of the pond and swimming as Bant playfully taunted him. He had dreamed of walking in the moon garden at night with Halla wrapped around his arm. Her gentle, teasing smile came back to him. The peace of the happy dream was only shattered by the raucous laughter of Bant, Garen and Reeft that echoed through his head as the memory one of their less that stellar explorations of Coruscant's night club district floated into the happy dream.

All through the dream, Bant's never ending voice wafted. He wondered if she ever stopped to take a breath and feared that it would never end until he woke up from the wonderful dream. Not that it would shut her up, but at least he could defend himself against her barbs. 

Or at least try, after all, this was her fault. He should never have let her talk him into sneaking out and now he was probably in trouble. He will be meditating on his disobedience until his knighthood.

If he just stayed in the wonderful dream, he would not have to suffer his master's wrath. Yes, that sounded good. But there was something tugging at his senses, pulling curiously at the edge of his mind. It was familiar but distant. Strangely enough though, he was comforted by the sensation. It beckoned him back to the waking world and reluctantly he followed.

It was like being caught in a bacta tank, struggling through the liquid; fighting against the restraints that threatened to keep him permanently imprisoned. He struggled pulling free of the non-existent walls that held him prisoner. A painful thundering in his head bloomed at the first touch of consciousness.

Almost immediately, he became painfully aware of the bright light shining unmercifully through his closed eyelids. A low groan escaped as he twisted to bury his face in the not so soft pillow he had wrapped himself around.

"Oh look," a voice happily chirped, "sleeping beauty has finally rejoined the world of the living." 

"Please stop yelling," Obi-Wan grumbled pulling the pillow tight around his face and over his ears to protect them from the abuse. Every joint in his body ached terribly and the slightest muscle twitch sent waves of agony radiating through his body and eliciting another pained groan.

"Wake up, sleeping beauty, I've got something to take the edge off that hangover."

Obi-Wan offered a muffled reply, "Hangover?" 

"Oh, don't tell me, you are always this cheery in the morning."

"Go away," he grumbled.

"Sorry, Sparky, but we need to check up on your electric personality."

Slowly Obi-Wan peeled the pillow back and opened his eyes. Something blurry and salmon colored hovered before him. Squinting and trying to focus, Obi-Wan decided it was Bant. He immediately squeezed his eyes shut.

Bant just laughed and shoved a glass full of foul smelling green liquid at him. "Drink this, it will help you get over your hangover."

"Hangover?" Obi-Wan repeated as he pushed the glass away. He did not remember drinking _that_ much.

"Funny, I don't remember there being an echo in here."

Obi-Wan whimpered. He felt her cold fingers press against his previously warm neck. "Ow!" he howled.

"You big baby," Bant hiss as she disposed of the used up pain medication patch. "Now open your eyes and take a big gulp of this stuff. I promise it will help."

"Whisper," Obi-Wan begged.

Bant leaned forward until she was just inches from his half-buried face. She spoke loudly, "Drink this or I will start yelling."

The young master jerked and tried to bury himself deeper into the folds of the blanket. After a moment, he sighed loudly and blindly reached up for the glass. Getting a good strong whiff of the noxious smelling drink, he huffed, "This isn't going to kill me, is it?"

"It's your favorite white paste thinned out with some happy juice."

"Isn't that what got me here in the first place?" His head was still throbbing painfully and he dearly wished Bant would _quietly_ walk away and turn off the lights so he could peacefully die. Still, he couldn't figure out how Bant was so cheery. Didn't she drink as much as he did? He could not remember, it felt so long ago. Well, as long as his master did not expect him to go through a rough work out like last time he would be all right. A soft chuckle escaped him as his fuzzy brain conjured up the image of the rather unhappy face of his masterright after he had thrown up all over him. It was rather precious to see the usually unflappable Qui-Gon Jinn's look at that moment. 

Kind of reminded him of the look the elder Jedi was giving him now.

"Had the strangest dreams," Obi-Wan absently mumbled to Qui-Gon. "I have not swum in the pond in almost eight years, well at least not since I was thirteen. I felt like I was drowning in it." He took in a final breath and downed the contents of the glass, then sputtered and gagged. It tasted worse than it smelled.

Quickly slapping a hand firmly over his mouth, he turned away from Qui-Gon and focused all of his will power on not vomiting up the stuff he had just downed.

Bant kindly held up a bucket, just in case.

The wave of nausea quickly grew worse before it started to slowly subside. He groaned again because it was all he had the strength for.

The healer gently brushed her fingers through his tousled ginger hair. "How are you feeling?"

"I want to die." 

"Just don't do it on my shift, I don't want the paperwork."

A very slight nod as the illness and extreme sensitivity to everything slowly began to recede. Feeling brave, he slowly opened his eyes. The light was still way too bright but he decided he could live with it. Shifting slightly his vision focused on the menacingly large figure of Qui-Gon standing just a few feet away. His arms were folded into the deep sleeves of his cloak as his stern expression studied the scene before him. The next thing Obi-Wan found were Masters Mace and Yoda watching him in much the same fashion. 

Bleary eyed and barely conscious, Obi-Wan frowned before asking, "Did I do something stupid?"

"Probably," Bant replied, the cheeriness leaving her voice for a more serious tone.

"I didn't think I drank that much," Obi-Wan mumbled as he tried to sit up and get his bearings. His world spun and Bant offered support to keep him from falling back over.

The trio of masters exchanged curious looks.

"It was just a one time thing," Obi-Wan continued to ramble, "if you don't count last time." His voice slurred. "I mean if I feel this bad after a couple drinks I promise, Master, I'll never do it again."

Qui-Gon opened his mouth to answer, but stopped. 

Mace looked to Bant for explanation.

Bant pressed her hand over Obi-Wan's mouth. "Shut up before you embarrass yourself."

"It was your bright idea," the Jedi mumbled, twisting away. "Let's all sneak out, you said. We'll never get caught."

"At least he's not throwing up," Qui-Gon whispered softly.

Sitting up under his own strength, Obi-Wan drew his knees up to his chest and buried his face in his folded arms. Every fiber of his being hurt. His chest hurt, his lungs ached. Muscles, bones and even his hair hurt. 

Bant gently rubbed his back. 

"Where am I?" he asked softly, sounding too much like a lost child.

"You are in the healing center," he friend gently replied.

The warm euphoria of being young and stupid quickly wore off into painful reality. "What is wrong with me?" Weary blue eyes stared up at the four that hovered closely.

"You are suffering effects similar to a hangover," Bant answered.

"What?" Obi-Wan looked up and met Bant's silver eyes. He had been drinking with friends, how did he end up there?

Mace cleared his throat drawing the young master's attention. "You confronted a Sith in Senator Amidala's apartment a few days ago." Mace then nodded toward Qui-Gon. 

The graying Jedi took up the explanation, "The Sith used Force lightning on you. You were injured and I had you transported to the Temple for treatment." There was a pause and a strangely melancholy look clouded the older man's eyes.

"Treatment?" Obi-Wan whispered. The confusion was still strong as he struggled to push past the fuzziness that clogged his brain.

"Nothing a day in bacta didn't fix," Bant said quickly.

Feeling cold, Obi-Wan tugged at the blankets since all he had on were simple gray sleep clothes. Bant quietly helped by pulling the thermal covers up over his shoulders.

"A Sith," he said, the memory began to slowly return.

Bant studied her long time friend for a time. "Research tells us disorientation should be expected." The slight tremor in her voice belied any confidence she tried to project. "You should recover eventually."

Obi-Wan just sat there quietly. He could hear his friend explaining to the masters what was wrong with him but none of the words really held any significance and were gone from memory as quickly as they were spoken. Burning off like the morning mist was the daze that had followed the wonderful dream he had. 

Reality was settling in and Halla Keizian was dead. 

He was no longer a Jedi padawan, but a master.

Clinging to that last thought, panic rose in him. "Where's Bali?" He struggled against the tangle of covers to get up; knowing only that he had to find his apprentice.

"Fine, he is," Yoda reassured softly. "Singed but recovering well."

"Where is he?" Obi-Wan demanded, fighting with the covers. He had to find the boy to make sure he was all right. Hands tried to push him down. "Bali!" he called out. Worry seized him. Where was the boy? He had sent him away but Bali came back and the Sith–

In the doorway, Bali appeared. Concerned bright green eyes met his master's pale blue. He gave a weak smile as he glanced over to the masters that watched.

Obi-Wan eased back at the sight of the weary thirteen-year-old. "Are you all right?"

Bali nodded.

Relieved, Obi-Wan retreated into the protective folds of the blankets.

Yoda leaned forward slightly to look past Mace's cloak. His large yellow eyes studied the boy, then slowly drawing his ears back slightly he nodded to Bali.

The apprentice grinned and raced to the side of his master's bed. Immediately Obi-Wan reached out, placing a calming hand to the boy's shoulder. A great sigh of relief welled up in him at the sight of Bali in his new cloak. Automatically reaching through the bond, he brushed Bali's worried thoughts and reassured him. He felt a relieved pulse from the apprentice and never thought anything felt so wonderful. 

Bali grinned, then straightened as if suddenly realizing that they were being watched. The concern eased from his face and he immediately took the position of an obedient padawan. 

All of this did came under Qui-Gon's watch, who silently studied the interaction of master and padawan. Again the gray haired master looked as if he were going to remark but stopped. He gave a gentle smile toward the master and padawan.

"Singed the boy is," Yoda said finally, "but well. Told us with the innocence of youth about the attacker."

Mace continued, "Master Jinn and his apprentice told us of their experiences. Your recollections are clearest right now, before you have a chance to analyze what you saw." He took careful note of Bant's sharp look but ignored her. "We realize this is a–"

"I understand," Obi-Wan replied but remained quiet. His head still hurt and it felt like it was taking all of his strength to keep it from falling off his shoulders and rolling across the floor. His first, clear thought of the confrontation was spoken slowly so not to mistake what he was going to say, "The Sith we battled on Naboo was the apprentice."

"How do you know?" Qui-Gon asked, started by the remark.

"The master told me so just before he tried to fry me." Obi-Wan shook his head this was taking more strength than he imagined. "Said something like you may have killed my apprentice but you will not kill me." He still felt bad and lightly buried his face in the palm of his hand. After a moment, he straightened and asked slowly, "How is Senator Amidala?"

Qui-Gon cleared his throat. "She is recovering. Her injuries, much like Bali'sPadawan Tiro's were not severe."

"Good," Obi-Wan answered tiredly. 

Seeing her friend's distress, Bant immediately stepped in. "Okay, you found out something. Now let him rest."

"I'm fine," Obi-Wan tried to argue. 

"Rest," Bant said, pressing a hand to his shoulder and offering up a powerful sleep suggestion. The Jedi's eyes rolled back and he fell over in bed. She pulled the warm covers back up to his shoulders. "Want to stay?" she asked Bali.

The boy nodded, making sure to keep close to the bed.

"The rest of you," Bant said turning her attention to the hovering masters, "out."

Mace started to argue, "Since when–"

"Get out!" She pointed toward the door just in case they had trouble finding their way.

"Hanging around Dirad too much, she has been," Yoda grumbled as Bant waved them out of the small room. 

She twisted back to check on Bali and his sleeping master. "Take care of him," she said softly. When she turned back, she was surprised to catch Qui-Gon's hesitation but did not let the master drag behind. She roughly forced him from the room.

Bali nodded obediently and sat down in a chair next to the bed. He adjusted the covers slightly. Master had always sat with him when he was hurt or sick. Bali had only done it once for Obi-Wan and that was before they became master and padawan. Even if his master was just sleeping it seemed important for him to be there.

The Sith's attack had hurt. Bali knew that his master had blocked most of it, but he had still felt the pain through their bond. Sometimes he wished his master would not try to protect him so much.

__________________________

__

The Book of Civilized Government

"I object! This is all grand speculation!" Padmé cried out as she leapt to her feet in the floating senate seat. As the round hovercraft floated to the center of the senate chamber, the rich blue robes over her dress twisted about as she studied the rumbling crowd. "We do not know that for sure," she said evenly making sure her voice carried easily over the din.

The Relian Senator quickly responded as he craft hovered close to hers. "How can you deny it! You, yourself was attacked by a Force user."

"But I wasn't attacked by a Jedi," Padmé replied sharply. Were these people so stupid they did not know the difference between Jedi and non-Jedi?

A roar boiled up from the chamber depths as the senators went wild cheering and jeering the argument.

Supreme Chancellor Palpatine hammered the gavel against the podium. "Please! Please! Let us have order," he demanded as he glanced around the chamber. Concern high in his stress worn features.

The vast room thundered with the raging debates.

"Order!" Palpatine kept demanding even as he was completely drowned out.

"The Jedi are behind the assassinations!" A voice called out.

"They are servants of the Republic," Palpatine replied to the heckler. 

"Greed is what is tearing the Republic apart," Padmé announced over the throng of voices.

The timbre dropped to a mere hum. 

"Greed!" She yelled into the vast openness. "It began ten years ago with the Trade Federation's blockade of Naboo."

A Neimodian Senator's craft floated out into the center of the chamber. "These are the same lies that you used to censure use in that mock trial of justice. We will not stand by and be attacked further."

Undeterred Padmé continued, "After the Federation were found guilty of illegally blockading Naboo they retaliated by aiding the rebelling mid core worlds of the Aveniar Imperium."

"Smoke and mirrors!" The representative of the Bankers Association cried out. "We are not discussing a few rebelling worlds. We are speaking of a menace that has far too long plagued the Republic."

Padmé spun in her place staring out at the maddened crowd. She would not let these money mongers control the direction of the hearing. "These assassinations are being carried out against anyone who stood against the Trade Federation's blockade–"

"We've heard it already," a fat Twi'lek said dismissing the young woman with a wave of his hand. Laughter filtered through the noise at the Twi'lek's insolent gesture.

"Why have none of these secessionist worlds suffered an assassination?" The Bothan Senator Roem Hael called out as his platform glided into the center. "I dare say it is because they are behind it!"

Finally, another voice of reason, Padmé thought.

"You have no proof!" The Neimodian cried out. "No proof! These baseless accusations have driven others from the Republic. They drive us away now too!"

A low rumble filled the massive hall.

"The Trade Federation announces its declaration to secede."

The room exploded into a defining roar.

Padmé just stood there, staring blankly out. After a moment, her gaze found that of Palpatine's. He looked as shocked as she felt. 

More calls filled the room as senatorial transports moved to the center. Neighboring worlds of the Aveniar Imperium started to announce their intentions to leave the Republic.

The roar was deafening.

Palpatine frantically hammered the gavel trying to regain order, but it was useless. "Please. Let us discuss–"

The Relian's carriage flew around the room as the Senator addressed the maddened crowd. "The Republic has crippled and stifled us for too long. It is too big, too old and too mired in red tape and tradition to be of any use anymore. We ask for help and it goes to committee all the while our people are dying." He turned to face Padmé and pointed a long gray finger at the young Senator. "You of all should understand this." His attention returned to the crowd. "Under the secessionists regime, we will not be choked by senate discussion. We will act."

"This is tyranny!" Palpatine called out. "You are opening the door for lawlessness. Total chaos."

"Under the new regime we will govern ourselves. Define our own taxation and trade routes. The Republic will have no more say."

"Please!" Palpatine begged but went unheard as the room broke up into calamity.

Padmé stood silent and motionless in the center of the fray unable to act. Sides were being drawn and the air carts were being emptied of those leaving the order and safety of the Republic.

"Senator?" her assistant Sirceé whispered into her ear.

"Yes," her voice was barely a whisper. 

The assistant quietly handed a data pad over. 

The senator took it and quietly reviewed the information. She deleted the information and handed the pad back to Sirceé. "Thank you."

__________________

The Book of Master and Padawan Part VI

__

Laughter had never been forbidden in the ancient Jedi Temple, but it was limited to the more common areas of the great structure. Heard in the halls around the classrooms and in the cafeteria and around the residential floors. The joyous sound was rarely heard above the somber hum of peace and meditative silence.

The mirth echoed during the Festival of Light that occurred once every twenty or so months when the stars of the binary system Kyros alined. A brilliant white light lit the sky from their conjuncture and it could be seen from almost any point in the galaxy.

The glow was so magnificent that not even Coruscant's brightest day could obscure the Kyros brilliance. It stood as a great beacon to the Jedi Order, a reminder if ever there need one, of the light they strive for.

As always, the ritual of the day began early before the sky began to lightened. Every Jedi sought deep meditation to reflect on what had been and what will be as well as reinforcing their place in the universe. A deep and solemn act lasted much of the morning. The ritual of meditation was often performed among groups of friends or alone as each Jedi chose. Master and padawan teams, especially young ones, spent the meditation together. A young padawan was dependent on their master to learn how to appropriately partake in the ancient celebration.

As the mediations ended, the Temple became more alive than usual, humming with joy and laughter. Friends gather for parties and entertainment. The Temple buzzed with the excitement of the celebrations.

All rules were broken for one bright day and evening where everyone was equal. No lines of authority ruled and the often stodgy Council members danced on tabletops and partook of Alderaanian ale. 

Friendly debates echoed through the massive structure and there was no corner free from the glow of the festival. Games and other entertainment filled every corridor. And even the most severe of masters cracked a smile.

The day had long since turned to night and the dark sky lit by the binary Kyros shined through one of the garden domes. The festival had continued but even the most notable of the revelers had slowed. They watched the Kyros stars as they began their decent apart for the next twenty months. 

In a clearing in the garden, a group of young padawans and initiates had gathered. The day's festivities had worn them out and they slumped dully, staring up at the departing stars. Most had already passed into sleep and the initiate masters had come to retrieve the children. 

Soft footsteps padded over the grass as Obi-Wan approached the remaining children. He spied his own nine-year-old padawan in the group. 

Bali wavered slightly as he struggled to stay awake but he was quickly loosing the battle. His heavy eyelids slid closed and he started to teeter sideways until gentle hands caught him and held him upright.

"I think it is time for you to go to sleep, Padawan," Obi-Wan said softly. 

"I'm not tired," Bali mumbled then broke into a wide yawn. 

"Of course not, but I am exhausted and you should put me to bed."

"Yes, Master," the boy mumbled again as he obediently tried to stand up.

Obi-Wan reached out and scooped the unsteady child up, cradling the exhausted padawan in his arms. 

Bali yawned again, allowing his head to fall against his master's shoulder but did not protest too much. "I'm awake," he slurred softly. "Not a babyI can walk."

"Not very well."

Somewhere half in dream, Bali giggled as he was carried from the garden. 

Many strange sights from the festival would be remembered as there would always be a story or two to tell. Masters Windu and Gallia dancing on top of a table in one of the conference rooms would not soon be forgotten. The holovid would guarantee that. Nor would the image of the six inebriated masters whose padawans dyed them bright purple. It would be days before the coloring would finally be washed out. In all corners of the Temple, there would be laughter for months about the strange sights of this day.

Yet, the one that gathered the most attention and curiosity was the sight of a solitary master carrying his sleeping padawan through the Temple corridors. That no one who saw it could forget the gentle look of the famed and feared Sith killer and the gently cradled the boy in his arms. 


	9. 

__

The Book of Understanding

"It's a rock," Awar said as he squinted at the stone Bali protected. The tall red haired boy leaned forward to get a better look at the stone. "Are you sure he wasn't playing a trick on you?"

Bali sighed and scooped the stone his master had given him up off the table. "Master wouldn't." He paused for a moment, thinking of all the times over the last few years he had seen the stone in his master's possession. "It was important to him."

"But it's a rock."

The smaller of the two padawans reached out and set the dark stone back in the center of the cafeteria table. "It is not just any." He called on the Force and sent a pulse to the stone. The almost unnoticeable red veins glowed briefly. 

"How did you do that?" Awar asked, suddenly more interested. 

"It's Force sensitive," Bali replied proudly. "Master did not show me, I figured it out myself." The dark haired boy grinned, proud of his discovery. When he had first studied the curious birthday present from his master, sending a pulse to it felt like the right thing.

As soon as the small apprentice felt the approach of others to the table, he quickly grabbed and pocketed the stone. He and Awar exchanged concerned looks before masking their worry and looking up at the group of padawans that had surrounded them. Bali nervously tugged at the new cloak Yoda had brought him as he looked around. The padawans were of all ages and he had seen most of them around but did not know any of them.

His first instinct was to cower and try to find an opening but he knew he should not. That would not look good, after all, he was a padawan. He did not cower when facing the Sith monster even though being zapped really hurt. He had even gone back to where the Sith was when his master needed help. Acting like a cowardly initiate would not look good; he kept reminding himself as he straightened.

Awar met his gaze and steeled himself after Bali's own action.

The smaller padawan knew that all eyes were on him. "Eventually, I have to go to sparring practice," he said carefully. "You might want to move." He hoped he was not inspiring a thorough beating.

A senior padawan, whose name Bali thought was Jandar, smiled. "You're Bali Tiro, right?"

Bali nodded, afraid his voice would crack if he tried to answer.

A soft murmur moved through the surrounding padawans.

"You are the Sith killer's padawan, right?"

The fear bled away as Bali took offense to the remark. "His name is Master Kenobi."

There was dead silence and Bali looked to his friend who stared back quite worriedly. He was definitely in for a beating.

Another older padawan, whose name he did not know, spoke up next. "So is it true you fought a Sith?"

He could feel the warmth of a blush rise to his cheeks and was upset with himself for allowing such an obvious emotional reaction. He considered what he was going to say and could feel the padawans creep a little closer with anticipation.

"The Council said I am not supposed to discuss anything," he said plainly, hoping mention of the high Council would quell the questioning.

"Oh," was the collective grumble.

Jandar looked to Awar. "He has not told you anything?" 

Awar shook his head. "Not a word and I have tried."

"I suppose you can't tell us if you won."

"We survived," Bali replied wishing the questioning would end.

"And you should hope never to find yourself in such a situation," Master Rur Yentu said, pulling some of the older padawans backward. "Leave the child alone," the old Jedi said. His bulbous blue eyes scanned the crowd before settling on Bali. 

The apprentice had seen a lecture where Master Yentu had spoken, he was supposed to know a great deal about the Sith as he had researched them for many years.

Yentu pointed a long, gray finger at the gathered padawans. "It is not enough young Tiro has been repeatedly put through Council inquisitions, that you must now gang up on him?"

Bali was thankful for the strange old Jedi's intervention. He had seen him many times but the old man was usually wrapped up in some ancient text to pay attention to his surroundings. 

"Run along, I am sure there are lessons awaiting you all."

When the padawans had scattered, the old man turned his attention on Bali and gave the boy a smile. "You will always be the source of curiosity because what you did was so rare."

The apprentice nodded. "I keep getting asked but I can't say anything because Master Windu said I couldn't."

"It is only until the Council has a chance to formally release information on this. I am sure the politicians are trying to keep this quiet as well and it makes things exceedingly difficult."

Bali nodded tiredly. 

"I shall leave you to your meal," Yentu hesitated. "Padawan Tiro."

"Yes, Master?" Bali dutifully replied.

"With the Council and your Master's permission, may I interview you about the attack sometime?"

The apprentice thought about it for a moment. "Of course, Master." Everyone wanted to speak to him now. It used to be so many were afraid of upsetting his master they kept their distance and was certain they whispered terrible things. Bali did not care, Yoda had told him that he was where he should be and that no master could be better for him. He had learned to become used to the whisperings, after a while they did not bother him. After all, he was the padawan of the only Sith killer in all the universe, even though his master did not like to be called that.

Bali was quickly learning why. 

_____________________

__

The Book of Grand Visions

In the distance, the sun cast an orange glow over the canyons of buildings and structures that made up Coruscant. Stark against the warm glow was the towering Jedi Temple. It rose protectively over the sea of structures below. 

"That is where Ani has been living?" Shmi asked meekly.

"Yes, ma'am," Jira replied as carried in a shopping bag full of newly bought clothing. The blond stopped short to study the older woman but then continued with her task of putting away the newly purchased items.

Shmi could not take her eyes off the structure looming in the distance. When the Jedi, Qui-Gon Jinn, had told her that Anakin would live in the Temple, she thought of the Caster monks that lived on the outskirts of Mos Espa. A simple dwelling attached to a holy shrine. A simple life devoted to service to their deity and a pious life helping others. She did not imagine her son living in the grandest of cathedrals. To her weary eyes, it was more a palace than a church. Of course she had heard stories of the Jedi and had often told the tales to her son as bedtime stories.

She folded her arms across her chest but stopped and studied the crisp material of her clothing. They were brand new. 

Never in her life had she owned anything new, let alone as colorful as the long shirt she wore. Brightly colored tuka flower prints flowed over the deep blue material. She put a leg forward to study the wine colored pants and the very soft bantha skin moccasins that covered her feet. How easily she could get spoiled to this kind of comfort.

The warm glow drew her attention back to the window. The sun had dipped down to the jagged horizon and now allowed the temple to be more clearly seen in the twilight. The building, or rather campus of multiple buildings was as old as known time and yet for some reason Shmi decided it was still young and lively.

Unlike her.

Her reflection showed harshly against the orange glow. The gray in her hair was all too stark. It had been so long since she had looked in a mirror. She had been young once but between glances she had grown so old. Calloused fingers pulled at the deep lines around her eyes in a vain attempt to smooth the skin.

She wondered if Anakin would even recognize her. Another part was frightened that she would not recognize him. Ten years was a long time and little boys grow up. 

Shmi turned and found that to her surprise Jira was quietly watching her. "Oh, I'm sorry."

"For what? You have never seen Coruscant." The blond smiled gently and motioned toward the window. "I asked for this side of the hotel specifically just so you had a view of the Temple." Jira grinned. "Fresh clothing is in your room. I'm sure you would like to rest tonight after your long journey."

"Yes." Shmi walked back to the circle of chairs in the common room. Her frailty apparent as she found an over stuffed chair. "I would like to rest tonight. Clean up. Get myself together." She looked up at the blond who irritably pushed her locks back. "You have done so much for me. How can I ever repay you?"

"You can't, because I won't allow it. This is only a small thing the people of Naboo could do for the young man whose heroics helped our people so." Jira sank into the couch.

Shmi smiled meekly again as she stared uncomfortably down at her hands. "This room is too grand for just me. It is like a palace."

Jira looked around curiously. "No. I have been in many palaces and I can tell you that this is not one. It isn't as stuffy." She giggled playfully urging a smile from the older woman. She saw Shmi's sadness. "I have already informed Senator Amidala. She cannot wait to tell your son the news. Right now he is assigned to guard the Senator so she is making plans in her schedule to visit so you can see your son."

Shmi's tired, deeply lined face lit up. "Thank you."

__________________

__

The Book of Tough Love

With a soft swoosh, the doors of the Jedi Council chamber glided open revealing Obi-Wan Kenobi. He stared out into the antechamber where other Jedi waited patiently for their turn before the Council. They did not garner his attention as he swiftly walked through the room and out into the corridor taking him away from the inquisition. 

The Council had bombarded him with many questions; most he could not answer. Vague flashes of memory were all that remained of his confrontation with the Sith. That and the recovery from the attack were all he had.

The Force braced him against the ache and weariness that was slowly fading but it was his own will that kept the pain masked. Maintaining shielding so dense that was second nature, he walked quickly through the massive Temple. He found that it was a curious sensation to hide so completely. It had been years since he had felt the need to do so and found it to be so much lonelier than he remembered. He felt the heightened awareness of his surroundings and yet he was cut off from the life of the Temple. A part of him feared returning to the isolation.

It was only for a little while, at least until he returned to his apartment and could deal with his injuries. 

The journey had remained unimpeded until he arrived at the main lift of the residential section. Several Jedi waited the cart's arrival and he briefly considered searching out one of the secondary lifts but he was tired. Nor did he feel up to taking twenty-seven flights of stairs. 

He had recently faced a Sith master, certainly he could handle a lift full of Jedi. They were not physically attacking him.

The lift door slid open, but only a few of the passengers exited before Obi-Wan and the others could quietly partake in the ride. There was some soft conversation but he paid it little attention, more concerned in redefining his shielding. The last thing he wanted was to come off as hostile, Master Healer Lorus would love that and tear into him in their next session. 

At his floor, he quietly exited the cart and walked the distance of the hall to the first intersection and turned left. His pace staggered and he was forced to lean against the wall briefly. Gathering his strength, he straightened and walked to the next intersection but stopped just as he rounded the corner.

Bant stopped her pacing and just stared at him.

Slowing his pace slightly, Obi-Wan continued toward his apartment. "I'm surprised you didn't let yourself in."

The healer huffed playfully. "I was still trying to decide if you were just ignoring me or if you really weren't home. Sometimes it is quite hard to tell." She quickly approached her friend and wrapped herself around his arm offering light support. The playfulness slipped from her voice. "You should have told the Council that you weren't ready to go traipsing around the Temple. Healer's orders were for you to rest. Well, next time, I am going to tell the Council that you don't need dragged around the Temple at their whim. You're hurt."

"You will do no such thing," Obi-Wan growled. 

"So you think," Bant replied cheerfully again as she palmed the door open. "I have no trouble telling Mace where to stick it."

"That only works in the healing center," the ginger haired Jedi tiredly replied, as he was half pulled into the apartment.

Bant twisted around to meet Obi-Wan's gaze. "Did you get your sense of humor zapped out?"

"I thought you said I lost that a long time ago?"

"One can always hope you will get it back." She sighed as she silently called the lights up. "Still, you shouldn't have let them bully you into a meeting."

"They didn't."

"Oh don't tell me you volunteered. Anyone with half a brain would know they weren't ready to walk the length of the Temple or face the Council. But no! Not you."

"Bant."

"Don't Bant me," she growled, then roughly pushed the injured Jedi to the couch. "See if I help you next time."

"I could have made it here just fine," Obi-Wan shot back as he curled up on the couch, carefully pulling at the edges of his cloak. Truth was he much preferred his bed, a day of sleep would do him good. Once he had gotten comfortable, he allowed his head to fall back against the couch arm. A tired grin was all he could offer the healer.

"Uh huh," Bant said skeptically as she slid to the edge of the couch. Instinctively she called to the Force to check up on her friend's recovery. "You need to rest," she softly growled. Worry briefly fluttered across the Mon Calamari's face. "You would have been crawling to the door if I had not been waiting. How would that have looked? The great warrior, the one Jedi who has faced more Sith in the last millennia than all of the Order put together, crawling."

Obi-Wan just stared at her for a time. "That is not true," he said flatly.

The remark kept Bant quiet for only a moment, and then her face took on a mask of bitter determination. "Oh, right," sarcasm dripped from every word, "I forgot all about Qui-Gon-mister-I-will-lay-here-holding-my-chest-while-my-padawan-finishes-off-the-Sith-and-saves-my-lame-butt-so-I-can-kick-him-while-he's-down Jinn."

"Bant."

"Isn't this the same guy who got knocked flat on his butt a few days ago by another one? Only to be saved when Bali–yes, Bali–hit it with a Force shove? Don't look at me like that, of course I was eaves dropping. If they are going to have those conversations in the healing center, then I am going to listen." She glanced away from his intense stare. "The only difference between now and then is he feels some sort of remorse. He at least spoke civilly to Bali. I would have made him a permanent resident of the healing center if he harmed him in anyway."

This time, Obi-Wan slowly turned his gaze away to stare toward the back of the apartment. "Bant, please–"

"You know as well as I do that is what he did. Just because you still cannot admit it to yourself, does not mean it isn't true. Suddenly forgetting you have a padawan so you can take another wasn't caused by amnesia. It was arrogance and stupidity. Andand just plain cruel." Calming, she sighed loudly. "Maybe that jolt of lightning started his heart–"

"Now you are just being cruel," Obi-Wan argued.

Bant slapped a hand to his forehead. "See, you aren't well. You are still a little out of it and you don't know what you are saying." She made him look at her. "Your fuzzy brain betrayed you the other day in front of me, Mace, Yoda and _him_. Force knows the moment you slurred _Master_ I wanted to hit you with a good sleep whammy so you didn't embarrass yourself."

"It could not have been that bad," Obi-Wan said softly. Uncertainty filled his pale blue eyes. It suddenly occurred to him that he had no clue what he had said. The only thing he did remember was locking onto Bali's worried but safe aura. The relief he had felt knowing the apprentice was all right. 

"You called _him_ Master, as in Sorry, Master.'"

"I don't remember that."

"For a while, you didn't remember the last fifteen years. Funny thing was, I felt terrible when you remembered where you were. For a little while, you reminded me of someone I used to know." She smiled sadly and glanced away before giving a weak laugh. "Maybe I should have hit _him_ with a whammy. Someone needed to knock that pleased look off his face." The bitterness left as quickly as it appeared. "Could have knocked old Jinn flat on his butt and no one could have stopped me."

"Mace and Yoda would have read you and reacted before you could even think it."

"Who is to say they would try?"

"Pride is not a good color on you," Obi-Wan said tiredly as he tugged at the edges of his cloak. For some reason, he felt colder than usual.

Noticing this, Bant reached to the end of the couch where a deep, but multicolored blanket sat neatly folded. She had found specifically for this apartment, even knowing her gloomy friend would toss anything too bright out.

She spread it out and covered Obi-Wan. "Well, neither is that sickly pallor on you."

"I was beginning to get used to it," Obi-Wan replied then offered her a weak laugh before he gratefully pulled at the covers. He decided the healer was right, he just needed to rest. He would feel better by the time Bali was hungry for the evening meal. Of course, that was if Mace did not wear him out in sparring practice. 

The venerable Council member had volunteered to take the padawan through a few light exercises for a few days. It would give the two a chance to cook up some acts of mischievousness. He would have to remember to check his drinks before opening them from now on.

The Jedi's tired gaze fell to Bant who sat there quietly. "Well?"

"Well, what?" She huffed unhappily. "I am worried," she said softly. "It makes me wonder if you are still not trying to kill yourself."

The suggestion made Obi-Wan defensive. "I wouldn't," he answered quickly. "I would not do that to Bali. I promised him I would be there. I will be there when he becomes a knight."

"And in the meantime? Obi, you are killing yourself. You cannot do these missions anymore and they are not required to teach Bali. Demand something easier." 

"I will, when this is over."

"_This?_ The Republic is crumbling. _This_ will never be over. You will still be fighting the monsters and a dying government and that is going to kill you. Don't you get it? You are not invincible no matter how many times you try to prove it." Anger rippled through her usually calm expression and chipper voice. "If you won't do this for yourself, do it for Bali. We both know a thirteen-year-old does not need to be drug into those situations. You have said it yourself: he's having nightmares of monsters. You think that little confrontation with the nightmare of all Jedi, where his master nearly got killed, is going to help him sleep?" She pressed her salmon colored hand to his shoulder. 

Obi-Wan didn't fight the sleep compulsion. The last thing he heard just before drifting off was Bant whispering. "He's a strong little kid, but if his master dies, it will crush him beyond repair."


	10. 

__

The Book of Dark Possibilities

Don't make a sound.

Be real quiet so not to wake Master.

Just a nightmare, it will go away soon.

Still the mantra did nothing for Bali as he ran through the whiteness of his dream. His feet glided over the formlessness below never slowing for fear the shadow would catch him. Fearing that his master would die saving him. 

"Where are you going, my little padawan?" A disembodied voice hissed. It echoed through the whiteness, seemingly everywhere at once.

Bali squeaked and changed directions but did not allow himself to slow a step. All he had to do was keep running until he woke up, then everything would be all right. 

Don't make a sound. Be real quiet and Master will never know. He does not need to know. The monster will win; the monster always wins.

It is just a nightmare; it will go away soon.

Laughter, like the shadows, boiled up around the apprentice. "No, little padawan, I will not go away!" 

The darkness engulfed Bali throwing him into the suffocating nothingness. He struggled but there was no physical form to fight against. He screamed but stopped short fearing his master would hear.

"Cry out!" The shadow demanded, whispering in his ear. "Call him!"

The fear choked the boy as much as the darkness did. He fought against the shadow but could not break free. The air in his lungs was slowly being crush out of him.

"Cry out!"

"No," Bali moaned.

The darkness tightened its grip, slowly crushing the thirteen-year-old both physically and mentally. All the while softly whispering. "I will show you who your true master is."

"Go away," Bali responded weakly. He was so tired from fighting the darkness. He pushed a hand into the shadow but slowly withdrew it.

"A little padawan, all my own," the shadow laughed.

"Leave me alone," the apprentice softly whispered.

"Is that anyway to treat your master?"

"I have a master!" Bali snapped, newly energized he bravely pushed himself free of the shadow. Sputtering and gasping for air, he fell forward into the whiteness. 

"He can't save you."

Bali twisted and climbed to his feet just as the glowing red blade appeared from the shadow. The boy bit back a scream as he bolted away from the darkness.

"Come little padawan, it's time to start your training."

The boy struggled over the whiteness, stumbling slightly. Fear seizing control of him and he felt helpless to handle it.

__

Ask it, Yoda's gravelly voice echoed through Bali's terrified mind. _It cannot harm you._

Instantly Bali stopped and turned on the shadow. "What are you?"

"The future." Wicked, evil laughter echoed from the boiling darkness. "It is time to begin your training, my little–"

__

Padawan.

Bali felt anger rise in him. The monster would not kill his master. Not this time. "Who are you?" he demanded turning back on the beast.

The shadow retreated before slowly taking on the form of a black shrouded figure. Still clutched in its vile grip was the red lightsaber. 

The padawan struggled against his fear, Yoda's words played like a mantra in his mind. With careful deliberation, Bali stepped forward to gaze under the beast's heavy black cowl. A flat black mask in the imitation of the face appeared. Bali gasped but did not retreat, as the monster did not approach. It remained perfectly still holding its weapon at ready. He studied the emotionless mask noting the pale gray line that ran down from the forehead and crossed over the right eye trailing jaggedly over the cheek.

__

Padawan.

There was something terrible and familiar about the monster. The unknowing frightened him more than the deadly weapon looming before him. Bali withdrew a step but the shrouded figure approached on the child.

__

Padawan!

"You are not my future!" Bali growled.

The beast just stopped. 

"I will not dream of you anymore. You cannot harm me here." Bali said, staring the shrouded figure down. He marched a few steps toward the manifestation of his nightmares. "Go away."

The beast raised its weapon and hissed, "You will never get rid of me–"

"Padawan!"

Red flashed as the monster leapt at Bali, the blood red blade slashing violently through the air.

Bali shrieked and jerked throwing himself from the sleep couch. He screamed in terror as he was caught in strong arms. Still locked in the nightmare, Bali kept screaming, struggling against his master's hold.

"Wake up, Padawan," Obi-Wan gently demanded, desperately clinging to the struggling child. 

Deep within Bali's panicked mind, he felt the warmth and familiarity of the training bond. "Master!" the dark haired boy cried out. Hot, wet tears escaped his bright green eyes; dropping to the heavy cloak Obi-Wan always wore. "Master," he sobbed clinging to the safety provided in his master's aura. "Master." The tears and the soft whimpering did not cease even as he pressed tighter to his master's chest. 

"Shh," Obi-Wan whispered as he gently rocked the upset boy. "It is all right, Padawan. It's just a bad dream."

___________________

__

The Book of Growing Distances

Master.

There had been no anger or malice in that pronunciation. No hurt reflected in the softly slurred voice. The word was spoken the way it had been in Qui-Gon's memories in a way that he had not heard in years. It was not until that word was spoken in that cultured, core accent did he realize how much he missed it.

__

Master.

It had been spoken in the tongue of an appropriately humble apprentice. One who had always strived to meet and exceed any expectation he had placed upon the young man. One who–

These were silly, useless thoughts, Qui-Gon decided tiredly. They would achieve him nothing. They were of a past that no longer belonged and he must be mindful of the here and now.

He walked a little more slowly than usual as he quietly paced the long corridor leading to Senator Amidala's apartments. Carefully he eyed the heightened numbers of senate security personnel and guard droids. After his confrontation with the two Sith, he knew that would never be enough. The dark Force users could move unseen in daylight and obviously had great resources at their disposal. His disturbed thoughts were mildly settled by the knowledge that there was another level of protection for the Senator as well as her counterparts housed in the grand Senatorial Office Building. A quietly placed contingent of Jedi patrolled great structure.

The Chancellor had openly promised the Senators heightened protection and mercifully agreed to a limited use of the Jedi. Had all the Senators demanded their own personal protection it would have severely cut into the Order's resources.

At a large window, the Jedi master paused to study the busy morning. He could feel the kinetic energy of the city planet. It felt livelier this morning than he had ever noticed. Of course, he always noticed. He had spent his life noticing everything and everyone around him. He had to be aware so he could sense the soft whispers of the Force. 

Qui-Gon had listened patiently during that long hot walk on that dusty planet, trailed by a droid, a Gungan and a queen pretending to be a handmaiden. He had listened to its soft calling and followed it to that junk shop unknowing of what he was searching for. He had known, but not for what purpose that he was there to find the boy. 

"Master."

Sometimes the coarser pronunciation still jarred him. Anakin had never overcome the sometimes-garish accent of a boy raised in the outer rim. This moment, like so many others these recent months, he was also forced to note the tone in which that word was spoken. The elder Jedi had always sensed it was spoken in demand or argument. Never in acquiescence orwarmth. There was formality and distance whispered in Anakin's sharp tone that made Qui-Gon uneasy. 

With each passing day, he knew space between he and his padawan was growing.

The gray Jedi master turned slowly, biting back the ache in his muscles left from the Sith lightning attack or possibly just his age was getting to him. Now was not the time to worry about mortality, he silently chastised himself allowing his gaze to cross the narrow corridor to his apprentice. "Yes, Padawan?"

Anakin shifted slightly allowing the full impact of his bright blue gaze to fall upon his master. The young man cut a fine presence in the corridor, moving slightly to place himself in a more commanding position. Had not the Jedi master grown accustomed to the youth's show he might have felt a little concern against such an imposing figure. 

"The Senator is almost ready to leave for the Sienar Technologies conference." There was a pause before Anakin finished, "Master."

Qui-Gon nodded almost absently. 

It did not take a probe for the elder Jedi to see the underlying excitement in the young man. For once though, he could not tell if it was inspired by the need to see what new "toys" Sienar was offering the newly besieged government or for just being in the company of the beautiful Senator. He hoped the youth was more interested in the military technology.

Unfortunately, Qui-Gon felt the magnetism between the two. "Very good," he said pushing back his own weariness. 

"Will you be going with us?" Anakin politely as he shifted his attention to the unseen motion within the Senator's suite.

"No. I must returned to the Temple. I believe Knights Abay and Jof'la will shadow you. They are excellent swordsmen and have been briefed on the attack. They along with the Senator's additional guard should be enough. As well as Seiner has guaranteed all the attending Senators' safety."

"Yes," Anakin replied with almost childlike glee, "they want to show off their security programs." Apparently noticing that Qui-Gon did not share his enthusiasm, the young man's bright blue eyes chilled slightly.

"Yes, of course." There was a moment of hesitation before he glanced away. "Must you meet with the Council everyday?" Hurt echoed in his voice. "The Chancellor assigned us to protect the Senator." Quickly the intense gaze fell back to his master. "How can you do this if you are always at the Temple?"

Qui-Gon straightened slightly at the chastisement. "I am returning for a check up with Master Healer Dirad." He reached out and took Anakin's chin in his rough hand, tilting the eighteen-year-old's head slightly to examine the healed flesh where the youth had been injured in the battle with the Sith. "Maybe you should have had your head checked. You seem to have forgotten your place."

The young man jerked back a step and glared at Qui-Gon. "Forgive me, Master," he said tensely but never dropping his gaze. 

For a moment, Qui-Gon thought he had been too hard on the boy.

In the nine years he had spent training Anakin, the master had tried never to withhold anything from him. Qui-Gon had always chosen to speak to him about the Council's concerns and explained to him why he should make an effort to bow to the rules. After all, it was for his own good and if he could learn, he could excel and become the greatest of all Jedi. Anakin had always been reasonable about the talks and–Qui-Gon admitted–tried; at least when he was younger. The Jedi master decided that now was not a time to change methods. Anakin was distracted enough as it was. "I am also intending to speak with the Council," he said evenly leaving little doubt as to who was the master.

Something uncertain flickered in Anakin's eyes.

Qui-Gon ignored it and continued, "I am requesting we be removed from this duty. Allow a fresh team, or more importantly teams, to see to the Senator's safety."

"You can't do that. No." Anakin said sharply as he shifted. Panic fluttered through his aura before being masked behind intense shielding.

"Anakin," Qui-Gon said calmly, resting a hand on the tall youth's shoulder. "You are becoming too close to the Senator. You are distracted from your duty to protect her."

"No." Anakin pulled away. "If anything it makes me more determined to protect Padmé."

"Anakin–"

The door to the suite opened and several guards spilled out before Padmé appeared. Both Jedi turned and formally bowed to the young woman in a long red dress. Fine black embroidery covered the silky material but did not distract from her. The clothing, while beautiful, was more subdued than her usual formal wear as she was attending a business meeting. She smiled at the two tall men.

"Master," Anakin said softly, curtly before stepping over to the waiting Senator. "Milady," he said with undue warmth in his tone.

"Jedi Skywalker."

Qui-Gon noted the less than discrete look the young woman offered his apprentice. He was definitely going to speak with the Council today.

"Master Jinn will not be joining us," Anakin said plainly. "I promise your protection nevertheless."

"Thank you."

"Senator," Qui-Gon bowed as second time without offering to detail his absence from the journey. He retreated slightly allowing the entourage to pass. 

__________________

__

Holonet Broadcasting Company

"this just in. We are getting holovid confirmation that the Republic has been amassing a massive military force. We go to Houf Learatil with a live report"

"Thank you, Lylo Anio, this is Houf Learatil coming to you live from the Modell sector. There had been rumors for over a standard year that the Republic was on military training maneuvers. All seemed innocent enough; raiders from the outer rim have been attacking cruisers and republic Security has been called in to deal with the problem. Upon further investigation though HBC has exclusively learned that it is more than a patrolling operation that has been going on out here. Can you show the footage we have obtained? Now you see these are some massive firepower. Battle cruisers and star destroyers of the like have never been seen within the Republic. I am told that each of these ships holds enough firepower to destroy a large colony. I am also told that this build up was brought on by the fear of an impending civil war or worse any attempt to overthrow the Republic's government. Back to you, Anio."

"Thank you, Houf. We should be thankful that they are on our sideUnconfirmed reports are coming in that the League of Secessionists have expelled all Jedi from their territories with the attached warning that any Jedi who enter will be considered Republic spies and killed on sight."


	11. 

The Book of the Master and Padawan Part VII

__

"I'm dying."

"I am pretty sure you are not."

"No, Master," Bali sniffled as he laid his head back on the pillow. "I am _dying."_

Obi-Wan laughed gently as he pulled the warm covers up to the nine-year-old's chest. "You just have a case of the Kiberian flu."

The apprentice twisted in the covers and groaned softly. He sniffled before breaking up into a coughing fit. A whimper escaped from the pale boy with the irritated red eyes. He tugged on the blanket, shifting around to get comfortable.

Feeling sorry for his miserable apprentice, Obi-Wan sank to the edge of the sleep couch. "It will only last for a day or two." Gently he pressed his calloused hand to Bali's warm forehead. "You should be feeling better tomorrow."

"Not if I die first."

"Try not to be so optimistic, Padawan."

"Yes, Master." 

Obi-Wan was treated by a little smile before Bali started coughing again. Then the apprentice curled up into a little ball on his side. The Jedi master adjusted the covers lightly then gently massaged the boy's small back, offering strength through their bond. Wishing he could do more to alleviate the apprentice's discomfort.

"Master?" Bali asked tiredly.

"Yes, Padawan?"

"Does this make me weak?"

"It is just the flu. You will be back to your old self in a few days."

"No, Master." Bali shifted so his weary green eyes met his master's. "Does getting sick make me a bad Jedi?"

Obi-Wan paused at the innocent question. "No, Padawan. It just proves you are mortal."

"Master?"

The master lightly brushed his fingers through the boy's short spiked hair. "If Jedi never became ill, there would be no healing center and Bant would have nothing to do but pester me."

Bali giggled, then coughed.

"You need to rest now, Padawan." Then offered a light sleep compulsion, after all, Bant had said Bali just needed a good night sleep and he would feel much better in the morning.

"Yes, Master." The boy sighed loudly and let his long lashed eyelids slide closed. He mumbled something between sniffles.

The little apprentice was going to be fine, Obi-Wan told himself. Bant had promised that it was just a short-lived case of the flu. Still the young master did not retreat from the sleeping boy. He thought he should be there just in case his padawan needed him.

Obi-Wan smiled at the thought: His padawan.

__

For a long time, he just studied the small form curled up next to him who shifted slightly in his sleep. Bali was just a little boy who depended on him to guide him to knighthood. Every lesson was fraught with worry. Obi-Wan was certain that he was not doing it right and yet, the apprentice seemed to be getting along all right. Bali struggled terribly with his studies and he had spent many hours working with the boy. Many of the apprentice's instructors had praised Bali's improvement. 

Carefully, Obi-Wan found the thin padawan braid, partially tucked under Bali's chin and pulled it free allowing the ginger tip to lap over the light blue sleep tunic.

Bali sniffled and coughed before burrowing deeper into the covers.   
"Yes, Master," the little boy murmured in dream.

____________________

__

The Book of Evil Plans

The shrouded figure of Darth Vengier glided into the lush office and quickly bowed before Sidious. "My Master," came the soft hiss.

The Sith master turned to face the kneeling figure. A sharp exhale of breath the only sound in the room. "Another attack on Senator Amidala would be too suspicious," the Sith reasoned out loud. "We will have to find another way to deal with her. For now, I have a new mission, my apprentice. Bail Organa will be returning shortly to Coruscant. "Apparently his diplomatic mission to the Aveniar has failed. You have come through your adventure well, my apprentice."

"I do only as I am told, Master."

"Yes." Sidious turned back to the rainy gray sky that had possessed so much attention earlier. "I am certain he will have a great many things to discuss with various committees about his mediations with the Aveniar. We cannot allow this. Besides, he had your properties and holdings confiscated in that whole clone debacle and you are dying to pay him back."

"Yes, my Master," Vengier's mechanized voice hissed. 

Sidious moved to study the still kneeling figure. "You failed to kill Kenobi on Xim. Do so again and it will cost you your life. I am not in the mood for any more of your games Vengier." 

There was a long silence as Sidious' attention fell back to the falling rain. From that vantagepoint the dark lord could clearly see the upper levels of the Jedi Temple. Sidious silently laughed, basking in the glow of plans finally coming to fruition. A few minor annoyances remained but they would soon be soundly dealt with.

If it had not been for intricate back up plans, the discovery of the clone factories several years ago would have permanently crippled the Sith. It was merely a stumbling block to overcome.

The enjoyment of the moment quickly ceased with a sharp pain. Sidious quickly pressed a gaunt hand against the wounded abdomen. Kenobi would pay dearly for this. 

The lightsaber wound had been treated and the young physician that healed the injury had met with a most grisly fate. Vengier had eviscerated the young man and left his entrails spread about the primary entrance of the Senate building as a reminder of how dangerous and uncertain these times were.

Allowing a tendril of dark Force to reach out and brush the masked Sith's mind, Sidious relished in Vengier's brutal murder of the young man. The sound of the ginger haired healer begging for mercy rang playfully through the master's mind. Sidious tasted the blood lust that drove Vengier's need to wrap delicate fingers around the man's still beating heart and to crush it in a powerful grip. More so, it was the young Sith's need to mentally replace the healer's face with that of Kenobi's satisfying some dark desire.

Soon Sidious thought, Vengier would deliver a most prized heart. One of such strength that it still left the dark lord reeling. Sidious had not expected the Jedi to fight him so. Any other creature would have die at the lightest thought and yet Kenobi had lived. 

Not for long.

Yet the dark lord had gained certain sought after information from the tortured Jedi's mind. Nochian Spex had not given him the prophecy.

Instead the dying Master prognosticator had delivered the information to Kenobi's padawan.

Sidious studied Vengier for a time while silently revising plans. The apprentice had turned out to be an adequate replacement for Maul. No one would be as good as Maul, Sidious admitted. The young man's lifetime had been spent grooming him for the battle with the Jedi. A battle that was inevitable, a battle the dark lord was certain Maul would win without question. 

Then to be defeated by a mere Jedi padawan.

The Sith lord had never felt the fires of hate burn so brightly as it did that moment when the bond with the young Sith was severed.

For a little while, Darth Sidious had believed no living creature could know such hate. Forced to draw back into the shadows again to plot and plan. The first stage had been a partial success and had maneuvered the dark lord into a position of great authority and power. Stage two was quickly moving toward fruition. At least until that pesky padawan turned knight showed up and robbed Sidious of the clone factories. In the ruins of that plan the dark lord discovered another with as much hate boiling within, as there ever could be one.

"Rise, Vengier."

The masked Sith straightened but remained silent under Sidious' scrutiny. 

Sidious turned back to the Coruscant skyline before speaking. "Our young Senator has provided us with an opportunity we shall not waste."

"Yes, Master."

News of Senator Amidala's desire to free young Skywalker's mother from slavery had sparked the dark lord's attention. The youth in Qui-Gon Jinn's care was moving closer to adulthood, more powerful with every passing day. Sidious could feel the Force flowing around Anakin Skywalker from halfway across the planet. Soon the boy would be ready to take his rightful place at the dark lord's side.

The anger and tenuous grip on the side of light was all the boy had left and Sidious' gentle stroking of the youth's jealousy was only bringing the youth closer to his eventual fall. Severing his bond from his mother would break that hold on the light.

The fall of the Jedi would all but be guaranteed with young Skywalker at the dark lord's side. 

Soon Vengier would be replaced, but for now Vengier was adequate. The pain and need for revenge so powerful that Sidious was impressed enough to save that last dying spark, the one that pesky Jedi had nearly snuffed out years ago.

"Now, my apprentice, you will take care of Organa before he can cause me anymore trouble. I will also see to it that Kenobi and his padawan will be present. Deal with them."

"Yes, Master," Vengier bowed.

"Fail me again and I will take more than your identity from you."

____________________________

__

The Book of Menacing Conversations

Soft footsteps moved through Padmé's apartment until they stopped just before the grand window. Anakin exhaled deeply as he stared out into the rainy afternoon. His master had yet to return from the Temple. 

He needed to apologize.

Anakin knew he should never have been so sharp with his master. Still he was uncertain at why he had acted so, bothered by the fact that he did not understand why he felt so irritated recently.

Of course, his dislike of his master's former apprentice had always been there, lurking like a dark shadow in the background. Qui-Gon never treated him poorly and had always gone out of his way to make him feel like he belonged. And yet, since Tarsis there was just something about how his master sometimesacted. Sometimes it was just a look. Other times it was how the master did not look at him. Seemingly distracted by some phantom of his past. 

Anakin still hated the sadness that always crept into his master's aura at the mention of Obi-Wan Kenobi. He also sensed that his master held a lot of regret and wish for change, but at what expense?

No matter what, Anakin thought dully, he was not going to allow his master to do him the way he had done his former apprentice. As soon as Qui-Gon returned from the Temple he would speak with him. He would fix everything.

The young man sighed loudly as he stared out into the rain. Once, the falling water had amazed him, but now it just made him gloomy. He longed for warm sunlight and the familiar golden glow. Tired of the grayness he turned his attention back to the apartment. Briefly his gaze swept along the neat common room. It looked as if there had been no battle fought within the elegant chamber. An empty space drew his notice. There had been a small, beautiful table where only a void remained. It had been broken, he understood when Obi-Wan had been thrown against it.

It had been such a nice little table. 

Something swelled within him that he could not quite place. Not that he really tried as his thoughts returned to the battle against the Sith, or more importantly, the attack on Padmé. It was mere luck that Obi-Wan and his padawan Bali had made it to the apartment to help her.

Of course he was grateful, he would never forgive himself if something had happened to his angel. Still, he hated that she was saved by _them_.

Anakin was not going to allow that to happen again. He had sworn to protect the young Senator and that he would do.

A slight warning on the Force drew the young man's attention toward the door before the potential intruder could sound the chime. Dully, Anakin watched as Sirceé magically appeared, quickly gliding across the common room to the door. The young Jedi allowed his hand to casually hover just above the silver cylinder at his belt. The assistant carefully checked the view screen. 

In the moment of hesitation, Anakin sent a tendril of the Force out, reaching easily beyond the door and felt fear mingling with anger before vanishing into relief. He noted the strange mixture of emotions but also noted the apparent lack of concern by the guards, both Senate and Jedi alike.

Sight of Jira's blond locks brought up a frown as he returned his attention to the rainy day.

Sirceé spoke in a quick, soft tone, "The Senator is in a holo conference but she should be finished shortly." The hooded assistant motioned toward seating in the common room. "You are welcome to wait."

"Thank you," Jira said in a surprisingly soft voice.

Unmeaning to, Anakin brushed against Jira's mind. It was just as noisy and cluttered on the inside as the brightly dressed woman was on the outside. Just as he retreated to a safe distance he noticed somethinghidden. By the time he could react to it, the feeling was gone. 

After Sirceé had left the room, Jira moved toward the semi circular couch in the center of the room and flopped into the firm cushioning. Roughly she pushed back her long hair and tried to calm her expression when her attention fell to Anakin watching the rain by the window.

"I wish they wouldn't schedule rain," Jira complained in a very chipper tone. "It just makes my hair go all frizzy and I can't do anything with it. You probably don't have that problem, being short and all." She broke up into none too soft giggles. "I mean your hair is short. You are actually quite tall. Does it run in your family?"

With his back toward the rambling woman Anakin rolled his eyes but made no attempt to answer, as Jira seemed to not need to catch her breath.

"Why is it they cut your hair like that? I would think that funny little tail thing on the back of your head would bother you."

Still Anakin watched the falling rain. 

"Is that something just the kids have to wear?"

Anakin cringed.

"I mean that Master Jinn, he has his hair tied back. Well it is really long though."

She was giving him a headache.

"I have never seen a gray haired Jedi before. Of course I haven't seen too many Jedi before either."

Maybe he could use a Force compulsion to shut her up. Just as he started to turn, unperturbed by his silence, Jira continued.

"Of course I just love the color of Master Kenobi's hair. I've often seen him in the Chancellor's office. He has pretty, long eyelashes too. I like that." For a brief moment, she was mercifully silent. "He's not very friendly though. Do you know why?"

"Master Kenobi," Anakin began agitatedly but stopped. He noted Jira leaned forward slightly to better take in any secret he could offer her. Realizing just how much this loud, annoying, abrasive human being was really getting on his nerves an evil plan was quickly formed. If she annoyed him, then his master's precious ex-padawan would hate her. Offering Jira a warm smile, Anakin sat down on the chair across from her. "Master Kenobi," he began with a gentle tone, "is one of those strong silent types."

"Really?" Jira perked up.

"He's quite shy," Anakin said as he leaned forward to offer her a great secret. "He embarrasses really easy, but don't tell anyone I told you that," he whispered. "He thinks no one knows and hides behind that hard shell."

Jira nodded conspiratorially. "Do you know him well?"

"Since I was nine." 

"Wow," Jira said with a bright gleam in her eyes. She leaned forward, half whispering as she spoke, "So what do you suggest I do to get his attention?"

Briefly Anakin felt sorry for the annoying blond, but she was making it too easy. "Be bold," he said evenly. "He respects that in women."

Jira pouted and looked confused. "I tried but I had this sudden urge to go file some reports and I don't remember what happened."

The Jedi apprentice smiled warmly, adding a small amount of Force compulsion to his words. "Just keep trying. The bolder the better."

"The bolder the better," she repeated. 

"He can't help to ignore someone like you."

Jira blushed.

"You girls are having just to much fun in here," Padmé said with a laugh as she entered the room.

Anakin stood up quickly, a flush rising to his cheeks. "Senator."

Padmé ignored Anakin and turned his attention to Jira. "Miss Thelo?"

The woman rose and bowed slightly. "The gift is here," she said as she handed over a data pad and a card key.

Padmé started to smile but quickly found her composure. "Thank you very much."

The Jedi apprentice studied the two women, disturbed that he was out of the loop on some secret.

"The Chancellor is expecting me in the office shortly," Jira said before quickly retreating.

"Miss Thelo?"

"Yes, Senator?" Jira asked turning back.

"You will give the Chancellor my regards and I hope he is recovering from the Kiberian flu."

"I am sure he will be up and around in a day or so," Jira replied, then allowed her gaze to fall to Anakin. She smiled warmly. "Thank you, Jedi Skywalker. I will act on your advice."

Anakin bowed formally and watched the blond quickly exit the apartment.

For a few moments, Padmé seemed enthralled by the contents of the data pad. Then ever so slowly she focused her attention on the young man silently studying her. "That was a cruel thing to do," she said finally. "You should not set someone up like that."

"I do not think there is much that can upset her."

"I'm not talking about Jira."


	12. 

__

The Book of Spiritual Revelations

Obi-Wan wrapped his cloak tight around his form before sliding to the strangely soft floor of the rounded mediation chamber. Pale blue eyes found the bright green of the small thirteen-year-old in mediation stance across from him. He gave the boy a weary smile. 

Bali glanced around curiously, as he had never been in that chamber before. There was not much to see. Light bluish-gray covered every inch of the chamber making floor, ceiling and wall blend together as one. The floor was spongy beneath his knees and there was no seating. 

The narrow door opened and Bali strained to see past his master's shoulder but saw only the dim light from the corridor before the door softly swooshed closed. He became immediately aware of Master Yoda's powerful presence. 

"Curious, you are?" Yoda asked as he took his place among the two Jedi forming a triangle. 

"Yes, Master," the apprentice said softly, afraid to speak too loud in the chamber.

"Whisper not, young one. Hear you no one can, except us and the Force." The little green master sank to the soft floor and slid his gimer stick to the side so it would be out of the way. 

A gentle pulse through the training bond brought Bali's complete attention back to his master. He waited eagerly for an explanation of why they were there. 

Obi-Wan shifted, giving a slight wince before completely focusing his attention on Bali. "You know I fought a Sith before." There was doubt in the master's voice.

"Yes, Master."

"Then I used the Force to heal my master, because he was injured," the words were spoken in a detached tone. 

Yoda's pointy green ears twitched but the little master said nothing. He just continued to study the scene silently. 

As Obi-Wan continued his tone grew flat as if reading a report. "I did not understand what I was doing when I attempted the healing and in the end–"

"Not made to burn so bright, are we," Yoda interrupted. He offered Obi-Wan a sympathetic gaze allowing the young master freedom from the explanation.

Bali watched, not understanding but feeling his master's pain. He reached across the short distance between he and Obi-Wan and gently placed a hand on his master's arm. "It is all right, Master. I have heard the stories. I understand."

"Do you?" Yoda asked.

The apprentice nodded. "Yes, Master. That is why he is always cold. He hurt himself channeling too much energy." Bali shifted slightly. "He did it because he did not want his master to die." There was a pause. "I would too in the same place."

"I do not want you to risk your life like that," Obi-Wan said firmly.

"Obey your master, you must," Yoda said. "Your protection is above all other duties."

Bali nodded sadly. "I had too, the monster, um Sith, was going to kill him."

"We are not here to chastise you," Obi-Wan said with a tired smile as he reached out and placed a calming touch to the boy's shoulder. "I was in a coma after healingmy master. When I woke there were many things to deal with. One was coping with the battle with the Sith."

The apprentice relaxed slightly, cautiously studying his master's worn expression. 

Obi-Wan sighed. "I thought this would help you as well."

"Mediate on this you must, understand your confrontation," Yoda said, focusing his attention on the boy.

Bali nodded uncertainly. He did not want to revisit the battle. He had seen enough of it. It was hardly better than the nightmares he suffered and he seen enough of the darkness to last a lifetime. Through the storm of worry that was rising in him, Bali felt his master's presence reach out to him and wrap him in a warm embrace. He sensed his master's concern and knew it was only to help him. Worried green eyes flitted from Obi-Wan to the ancient master sitting across from him. Yoda nodded gently.

"Okay," Bali said slowly. Still worried. 

Yoda spoke softly, "Begin with mediation, when you are ready, guide you, I will."

With a little help from his master, Bali easily fell into a meditative state. It was like he and his master had done hundreds of times. He could feel the warmth and safety of his master's presence as he opened himself up to the flow of Force. He felt the living universe surround him. Every object and being seemed to breathe and _feel_. He could brush against Obi-Wan's presence as the master guided him deeper into the mediation far beyond their daily sojourns into the mystic power. 

Bali felt himself being pulled farther and farther from his physical form until it almost completely disappeared. He was not afraid because he could still feel his master's presence close boy, guiding him toward a conduit of pure light. The apprentice had the strangest urge to reach out and touch the light but discovered he did not have a hand. Nor did he possess a physical form. The beam of energy flowing around everything twisted and turned shortly pulling away from Bali's grasp. His master's calming influence brought the padawan back to the moment and as Bali calmed the conduit twisted again tearing through his ethereal form.

There was no panic as he felt the voices of all that had ever been and all that ever would be whispering to him. In a flash of pure white brilliance, Bali saw himself in a circular room with a great pit in the center. He felt phantom muscles straining from battle. He felt an ache in his heart that was not derived from physical trauma. 

There was so much black and red washing through his senses, blinding him from the light.

__

The light!

Quickly, Bali grasped the conduit and basked in the purity washing off the vile smell of death and darkness that seemed to cling to him. In that moment of relief, he realized his master's presence had retreated slightly. 

__

Master?

A bright stripe of pain pierced the conduit of light causing it to twist and weave violently through the Force. Bali struggled to hang onto the light. 

__

Obi-Wan promisepromise me you will train the boy.

No, Master. Don't go. I can't let you die. 

I am not ready.

Bali started to scream but the conduit lashed out striking his ethereal form again. The white light blinded him shortly before slowly retreating. He could feel his feet against a floor. Fear so powerful inside him he could not contain it at the sight of the living embodiment of his nightmares. 

No. It was wrong.

A shadow, yes, but different from the one in his nightmares. 

Cold blue light laced with pain made him cry out as he lost his grip on the conduit of light. Bali struggled but he kept falling. Then his feet were on a floor again and he was hurt and running. So focused on the task ahead that the creeping fear could not grasp hold of his spirit. 

__

Not meant to burn so bright, are we.

Yet, the Force moved within him. Powered by the fear of seeing his master at the Sith's mercy. The Force whispered to him, guiding his hands forward as energy exploded from him. 

Bali had wanted so terribly to see the monster dead but in that final, brief moment before releasing the energy he pulled back. 

Vague images reflected in his mind's eye. A green blade cutting through the air. Slicing mercilessly into red and black. 

He had been afraid.

__

Master?

The conduit of light moved through the darkness and Bali struggled to reach it. He was so afraid. 

He had possessed the power to kill the monster and he did not.

How could he face his master after that?

How could he face the Jedi knowing he allowed an enemy to live? 

What kind of Jedi was he really? He had the power and chose not to use it.

__

Powerful Jedi.

Bali sensed Yoda's ancient presence. 

__

I failed.

Easy, it is, to grasp the dark side of the Force. Difficult, it is, not to use it. A trial by fire, you have passed where many would have failed.

Still clinging to the light, Bali cast out, searching for his master's presence. He could feel Obi-Wan, but the Jedi was far away. Too far for Bali to reach.

Passing into the conduit, Bali saw ghosts of the past. Blue shimmering figures of Jedi long dead. He saw generation after generation of masters and padawans in one glance. The entire history of the Order was laid out before him. He saw Jedi whose stories he had studied in his classes there among the light.

Bali had heard that in deep, guided mediations one could not only see, they could communicate with the spirits of their Jedi blood ancestors. He wondered if he was related to any of them.

As his ethereal form passed through the light conduit, he saw many more of the Order's greatest knights and masters. They watched in silence before fading into the brilliant white again. With them, the warmth of not being alone retreated and fear began to creep back into Bali. He struggled against it, but then allowed himself to be pulled farther along the conduit.

He could feel both his master and Yoda's auras growing farther away.

The beam of light was moving so fast that he was afraid to let go. 

Then something grasped–_his arm?_

He was jarred loose from the journey along the conduit but not free of it. 

__

You are lost, little one.

Bali twisted around to see a shimmering blue form standing in the light. The face reminded the apprentice of his master's but the clothes were of a Jedi generations long faded. Something else in the warm expression sparked a memory of one of his classes in Jedi history. This spirit was one of the greatest warriors the Jedi had known. He was a Sith killer. 

__

Ben'al Houk.

The familiar face offered a familiar laugh. It reminded Bali so much of his master and he knew why. Master Cer'li had told the class of the Force's sense of irony. His master, Obi-Wan Kenobi, was a descendant of Ben'al Houk, both noted Sith killers. All though, his instructor pointed out his master had many more Sith to kill before he could come close to Ben'al's record.

Ben'al laughed again. _You should not put too much credence in instructor's who consider students who act out Sith spawn._

Bali giggled.

__

Come, little one, before you drift too far.

For a time, Bali walked through the whiteness alongside the Jedi spirit. Occasionally he would glance up at the shimmering blue form and note in wonder how much the calm features reminded him of his own master. 

After a time, Ben'al Houk came to a stop and faced the thirteen-year-old. _You did what you had to do. Never doubt that._

Yes, Master. Bali automatically responded. 

__

Remember, a Sith is not just flesh and bone, their machinations are as much a part of them as anything. To destroy a Sith, you must destroy their intricate plots first. Even dead, their plans can still tear the Republic asunder. Do you understand?

Bali nodded. _Yes, Master._

Promise me one thing, Bali Tiro, when you face your nightmare, remember that you are a Jedi and nothing will ever change that.

I promise, Master.

The warm, familiar pull of his master's presence caught Bali's attention and he felt a great relief flow through him. 

The shimmering visage of Ben'al Houk began to fade. _Take care of your master,_ the spirit whispered, _we are not yet ready for him to join our ranks._

For a moment, Bali just hovered there in the Force considering his strange visitation, then quickly latched onto his master's Force signature. Very quickly, he spirit grew heavy as he was again moored in flesh and bone. 

Bright green eyes opened to face Obi-Wan's worried expression. "Master!" the boy called out as he leapt from his mediative stance and eagerly moved about the gray room. He stopped and ran back to where Obi-Wan and Yoda were sitting. 

Obi-Wan looked up at the thirteen-year-old curiously. "Are you all right, Padawan? You drifted so far away in the meditation."

Bali grinned and said excitedly, "I saw you fighting the Sith on Naboo, I felt myself fighting the monster at the Senator Amidala's apartment." He knelt next to Obi-Wan carefully studying his master's face. "I got lost too."

"Yes, Padawan, you–"

"I saw thousands of Jedi spirits in the Force."

Yoda's ears perked up. "Deep into meditation you slipped. Worried, we were."

"I saw all the lines of apprenticeship. It was so different than looking at charts and histories. I got lost," he repeated as he wiggled with pent up energy. 

Obi-Wan just stared at the happy apprentice.

"Found your way back," Yoda replied. "Help did you find?"

"Yes, Master." Bali turned back to study Obi-Wan again. He grinned. "You look just like Ben'al Houk. Did you know that, Master?"

"I have been told there was a resemblance," Obi-Wan replied softly. He shifted as concern clouded his pale blue eyes. "You saw Ben'al Houk?"

"Yes, Master." The boy withdrew slightly at his master's still concerned look. "I didn't kill the Sith when I had a chance. I thought I was wrong but Master Houk said I did what I had to do. He said to destroy a Sith we must destroy its plans first."

Yoda's wrinkled green skin betrayed no emotion to the boy's revelation. He betrayed nothing when Obi-Wan stared at the ancient master in silent question.

"Master Houk also said that I am to take care of you, Master."

"He did?" Obi-Wan asked softly.

"He does not want you joining the ranks. I don't know what that means."

"I don't think it is something you are going to have to worry about anytime soon, Padawan."

"Good. I think." The energy from the excitement quickly wore off and feeling desperately lethargic, Bali slumped against his master's chest. "It was strange," Bali said softly, "talking to a Jedi who died long before the Sith Wars."

"I am sure it was," Obi-Wan answered, gently wrapping an arm around the tired child.

The weight of his adventure had exhausted Bali and he could feel sleep creeping up on him. He struggled to stay awake. "I always wanted to know if I was related to any Jedi. Do you think I will ever find out?" he half mumbled.

"I think you already did," Obi-Wan answered softly allowing the boy a protective embrace to fall asleep in. He turned to the little green master. 

Yoda's ears twitched slightly but he said nothing, watching the young master and his worn out apprentice. 


	13. 

__

The Book of Long Walks

Bali's mediation adventure had left him worn out and he had been allowed to sleep for some time after. Hours had passed and the Temple slipped into quieter mode for the late evening. The only problem now was that Bali was wide-awake and full of energy. He had tried meditation. Even made a concerted attempt to work on his studies but was just too excited

The constant kicking of feet against the wall had been the last straw. Obi-Wan had pulled himself together from his own disturbed meditation and found the excitable apprentice staring at the wall. "Come, Padawan," was all the prompting the master offered as Bali chased after him through the arteries of the massive Temple.

Obi-Wan saw a lesson in the thirteen-year-old's desire to know more about Ben'al Houk. The apprentice had already asked dozens of questions, long since exhausting the master's mental resources. He could tell the boy little more about Ben'al Houk than Bali already knew. He was aware of his own kinship to the ancient Jedi but it never sparked curiosity beyond his regular studies. 

He would put the boy's interest to good use. They were headed for the archives and for the first time, the notion did not upset Bali. In fact, the apprentice was excited to go. The stacks would be empty and quiet and they could speak freely as Bali learned how to use the archive. It would teach him just how to research for missions and other projects and it would not be as painful to learn as it usually was.

Bali happily trailed a step to the side and one behind. His enthusiasm for this lesson was powerful and Obi-Wan could not help but to give a little smile. Yet, a part of him hoped Bali had gained more from the meditation than the strange visitation.

Obi-Wan had remembered when Master Yoda had provided him with a calm center during his recovery after his first battle with the Sith. The little master had guided a mediation that put the fight with the menacing tattooed figure into perspective. He thought that would do Bali good. The apprentice had been quieter and he was concerned that Bali was keeping something in. Obi-Wan desperately wished Bali would share his fears with him and not after the fact. How was he to protect the boy if he did not know what demons haunted him?

Now this mess with Ben'al Houk.

Bali was rather talkative about his adventure during meditation. He did not understand what most of it meant and even Yoda could not decipher some of the meanings. The little master had suggested more mediation. Bali had tried to mediate but his mind was elsewhere and could not calm himself enough.

For the time being it did not bother Obi-Wan too much that Bali could not immediately return to mediation. When he had felt Bali's bright consciousness slip away while in the deep mediation he had become afraid. Desperately he had grasped for the boy's spirit but for a moment, it was gone. Occasionally, the master glanced back, stealing a glimpse at the apprentice. Carefully the master noted that Bali's aura was a little different. Just a little brighter than he remembered it. The constant struggle with timidity seemed to be lacking from the brilliant aura. Pulling free of the mediation, a very happy, content child appeared with the burden of the recent past lifted from his shoulders.

Bali had been electrified by his spiritual encounter and struggled to play the part of the obedient padawan and follow his master through the Temple. Sensing this and knowing they were alone in the corridor, Obi-Wan sent a light pulse through the bond. A beautiful smile leapt to Bali's pale pink lips as he broke free and half-skipped along the corridor. 

Occasionally the apprentice would stop to allow his master to catch up but then he was off again enjoying the moment of freedom. Then suddenly he stopped. Bright green eyes carefully studied the approaching master.

"Yes, Padawan?" Obi-Wan asked.

"Nothing." The curious look did not subside. "You really do look like Ben'al."

"Master Houk," Obi-Wan gently corrected. "He may have been dead for more than a millennia, but he still deserves respect." Besides, the comparison made him uncomfortable for he did not want to be compared to the famed Sith killer. 

"Yes, Master," Bali replied dutifully. Then he paused. "How do you think you and I are related, Master?"

The ginger haired master folded his arms deep into the billowing sleeves of his cloak and considered the boy's question. "We are most likely very distant cousins."

A thoughtful look glazed the thirteen-year-old's long lash framed eyes. He was quickly leaving the world of the cute child and entering as a handsome teenager. The awkwardness of the early teens having yet to hit him. "You mean like Master Gallia and her cousin?"

"Much more distant."

"Oh."

"Master Houk probably has descendants spread throughout the galaxy."

"Oh." Bali started walking again. "Did you ever meet him in mediation?"

"No, Padawan. Master Yoda believed you were the first to communicate with him." Obi-Wan noted the mundane explanation seemed to dull the apprentice's enthusiasm somewhat. The boy even slowed his pace as he gaze shifted to the floor.

"Problem, Padawan?"

Bali stopped and looked up, a hint of sadness danced within his aura. "I was just hoping we were closely related."

"Why?"

The apprentice scrunched up his face in thought. "I don't know, but I want to know my family."

This was new, Obi-Wan thought as he fought to keep the concern pushed back. 

"Didn't you ever want to know where you came from?"

"No, Padawan. The Temple is my home. I need not look any further."

"Oh." Bali gave a thoughtful look then asked, "Don't you ever wonder about your parents or if you have brothers and sisters?" 

"Why do you ask that?" Obi-Wan had always sensed Bali's need to feel like he belonged and he worked very hard to make sure the apprentice did. He just never realized Bali felt that deeply about his place in the universe beyond the Jedi Order.

Bali thought for a moment, "I just wonder if I had siblings so my parents wouldn't be alone." He smiled sadly. "Haven't you ever felt like you are missing something?"

"I did, once. Then we met." Obi-Wan gave the apprentice a gentle look then tugged on the flame tipped braid dangling behind Bali's right ear. "I have my own little padawan to pester, what more do I need?"

Bali giggled. "You have Bant."

"Yes, I could not forget her if I tried."

"She will not let you."

"That too." Absently the master reached out and brushed his fingers through Bali's dark hair.

"Master!" The boy squeaked and he roughly pushed the spikes back up. 

"One of these days you will be too tall for me to do that."

"I'll never be that tall."

_____________________

__

The Book of Consternation

Obi-Wan guided Bali to the Council of First Knowledge Tower where the vast library resided. The presence of other Jedi nearby brought Bali back to his proper position trailing slightly to Obi-Wan's right side. The Jedi master folded himself into his cloak, wrapping his arms across his chest for added warmth he knew would not come. Glancing over at his padawan, a gentle smile found him at the sight of Bali's unconsciously mimicked response.

The master noted the quickly approaching presence of Mace Windu but chose to ignore it, hoping the senior Councillor was heading elsewhere.

"Master Kenobi," Mace called from behind.

The Jedi turned to see the tall Jedi walking briskly toward them. "Master," Obi-Wan said, noting Mace's frown. 

"May I borrow a moment of your time?"

"Of course." Obi-Wan turned his attention to Bali's emotionless expression but sensing his padawan's distress at not getting to research Ben'al Houk. "Padawan."

"Yes, Master?"

"Why don't you go on ahead and begin researching. I'll be there before you get stuck."

Bali smiled and bowed formally to Mace before scampering off toward the archives. For a moment, the younger master watched as the boy disappeared around a corner, then he turned back to the tall master.

When they were alone Mace turned his complete attention to the ginger haired Jedi. "How are Padawan Tiro's studies?"

"Behind," Obi-Wan answered suspiciously. "We are not ready to return to the field."

"What ever you did to earn the Chancellor's favor I wish you could undo."

Obi-Wan sighed but knew it would do little good to argue with the Councillor. "What now does he wish of us?"

"To provide protection to Senator Bail Organa of Alderaan. His diplomatic mission to the Aveniar has failed. Following a brief layover in Alderaan, he will be returning to Coruscant. You and your apprentice are to meet him upon arrival."

Tiredly, Obi-Wan nodded. "When?"

"A few days. I know it will not be enough of a reprieve. Chancellor Palpatine made this decision and sent the message. He did not leave us room to send anyone else in your place. We are attempting a conference with him so we can suggest another team, but he has been quite unavailable recently." There was a tone of suspicion in his voice. Lightening his tone, he continued, "With luck this immediate threat will subside soon and you two will be granted leave. You are both deserving of a rest." Mace eyed the younger man but Obi-Wan did not react to the prodding.

"Does not the Council usually leave the evaluations to the mind healers?"

"Well, yes." Mace laughed. "But we are getting tired of Lorus complaining that you still refuse to sit down in the sessions."

"Not as tired as I am of him wanting to explore my inner initiate. What more can he learn?" Obi-Wan glanced down the corridor noting the silent approach of two Jedi.

Mace just shook his head. "It is beyond me because I have never thought you were that interesting to begin with."

Obi-Wan just stared at the plain expression of the Council member.

The tall master burst into laughter. "It is a good thing poor Bali has a sense of humor already. He will never develop one with you as his master."

Folding his arms tighter against his chest, Obi-Wan gave a half-hearted frown. "I think I should be offended."

Mace glanced about the corridor noting the two Jedi who silently passed into the archives before allowing his expression to turn serious again. "The Council regrets sending you out another mission so soon. The Chancellor, I often suspect, feels we are expendable. He has no concept that Jedi can be injured and need to recover. Either that or he just has something against you."

"I often wonder." Obi-Wan pulled on his cloak, still desperate for warmth. He shifted around to stare at the empty corridor where Bali had vanished on his journey to the archives. "Did the Chancellor explain why he felt Senator Organa needed protection?"

"He believes the negotiations with the Aveniar will make him a target." 

Sensing the Councillor was holding back, Obi-Wan pressed, "But if the Aveniar are behind the assassinations why would they want someone who was willing to listen to their cause dead? Besides, they could have killed him at any time during his mission."

Mace paused as he glanced about the hall, checking it for any interlopers. "There is something else going on." He glanced around again. "These assassinations are more financially motivated than they are politically motivated."

Obi-Wan nodded. "A chapter on the Trade Federation trial resulted in most of the assassin's victims being mentioned. It was Bali, who remembered them. He also remembered most of the same Senators helped in the dismantling of–"

The younger master paused.

"Trocha's cloning facilities," Mace finished. "These dead Senators were all, in one form or another, in business with Ighista Trocha."

Immediately the younger man withdrew a few steps. "Not Organa or Amidala," he mumbled.

"Not that we know of."

"But how do you know?" Betrayal laced the edges of Obi-Wan's pale eyes. 

"It was by order of the Supreme Chancellor that certain information be withheld. Only select members of the Council were privy to this information."

Obi-Wan glanced about the empty corridor. "That explains this private meeting." 

"I could not bring this up in an open Council meeting or petition those who know to allow you in on this particular secret."

"I see, so why are you telling me?"

"You need to know," Mace replied flatly, "there are other forces at work." The tone suggesting that was all he was going to reveal.

"The Sith that attacked Amidala."

Mace nodded. "Look at the list of the dead. The scandal alone would rock the Republic to its core knowing some of the highest-ranking members of the Senate were in league with the illegal cloning facilities. Don't tell me you didn't realize that facility was capable of producing armies."

"Rather portentous considering reports of the arms build up in the Modell sector." Obi-Wan was struggling to keep his emotions in check. First the memory of Halla is brought up to battle that offensive creature Jira Thelo and now he is being told Trocha "You believe Trocha to be behind the assassinations?"

Mace shifted. "Ighista did not care about being a Jedi. He cared about his projects; the only reason he remained as long as he did was so he could use our resources. When the Council discovered he was attempting to clone sentient beings, we had to intervene. He gladly handed over his lightsaber and title of Jedi and walked out, carrying all of his research. He found backers in the Aveniar Imperium and Trade Federation. They, naturally, would get an army out of the culmination of his research."

"If he did not care about being a Jedi, what would being a Sith do? He lost his research facilities." 

__

His wife.

"It would get him revenge," Mace replied.

Obi-Wan turned his gaze from the tall Jedi and found a nearby window. It faced the Temple Spire but other than the massive structure's warning lights, there was little to look at in the night sky other than the facing tower. "He tried to use Halla to keep me distracted from his research. I found out anyway and brought the information to the Chancellor. And now, all this blood, because I did not kill him when I had the chance."

____________

__

The Book of Ghosts of Long Ago

Bali moved quietly through the research hall of the Temple archives. The stacks were so tall that it made the apprentice feel so much smaller against them. He stared helplessly about the vast resource of knowledge and realized what a daunting task he had put himself up for. The need to learn about Ben'al Houk overrode any fear of feeling stupid and he trudged forward through the stacks to an empty learning station and sat down. Bright green eyes glanced about the rows of stations and saw only one other being. A pale blue skinned Twi'lek he did not know sat a few stations away intensely studying her display.

Waiting for his master quickly grew dull and Bali decided he could at least find the information. With barely any hesitation, Bali logged on and began his cursory search for Ben'al Houk. 

The thirteen-year-old had expected to have an extended biography brought up but instead achieved column after column of cross-references. His head immediately began to ache. This was supposed to be fun, not hard like class work. 

Sighing softly, Bali settled in and began to read all of the different summaries listed in the index. There were a lot, nearly four hundred entries. Very little of the notations made sense to him as he read through the list of official reports of nearly a hundred missions. There were essays on fighting styles and to the best of Bali's knowledge Ben'al Houk was often cited for his formidable fighting skill. He had to be, Bali reasoned, after all Master Houk was a great warrior and Sith killer. 

Further down the list he found the record of Kakasha Girn's funeral. He had been Ben'al's master. Immediately Bali started to scan down the column again but stopped and returned to the funeral record. The Force gently tugged at him as he accessed the file. Lot's of dry information filled with names he had never heard of. He was about to give up on the file and try to find something more interesting when his bright green eyes locked on a single sentence. He read it several times trying to understand it. 

__

Of Master Girn's three former apprentices, Me-Oka El and Pushka Hoble were present.

Returning to the index, Bali scanned down further until another entry snagged his attention. Not understanding why an article called "The Birth of a Funeral Ritual" was suddenly important to him Bali opened it. The file was huge and he knew it would take him all night to read it. Worse, it was written by some moldy old master that had not seen the light of day in years because all they did was research.

So he scanned it for Ben'al Houk's name. He was practically at the end of the article when he came to a section entitled "The Use of Yawen Branches in the Funeral Rites." Bali shook his head before plunging into the complex essay.

After a few paragraphs, he sat back staring blankly at the screen. 

"You look confused," a lyrical voice whispered softly. "Do you need help?"

Bali turned to see the blue skinned Twi'lek staring at him. At first he was going to tell her no, but stopped. He did have a question but how does one ask a stranger to tell them about what a funeral looks like. He had never been to one and the descriptions were confusing.

"It is all right," the female Jedi said gently. "You can ask."

Still the apprentice hesitated. "What is an calenture urn?"

The Twi'lek gave a light almost magical laugh as she stood up and walked over to Bali's station. "Since when do young padawans need to research funerals?"

Bali made a little face then tried to explain. "I was looking up information on Master Ben'al Houk and I got distracted."

She glanced over Bali's shoulder at the display. "I would say so."

The apprentice turned a bright shade of red the moment the beautiful Twi'lek scooted up next to him on the bench.

"So, Padawan," she stopped and stared at Bali for a moment. "It seems we have forgotten an important detail, our names." Uncharacteristic of a Jedi, she held her hand out to Bali. "I am Knight Adjani'esan. And you?"

Bali stared at her delicate hand a moment before placing his small one against hers. Grasping Adjani's hand, Bali noted the roughness of calluses indicative of a saber expert. Reminding him of his master's palm. "I am Bali Tiro."

"Nice to meet you, Padawan Tiro." Adjani gave a lovely smile as she turned her attention to the display. "Most knights and masters would not willingly research such a complex figure. Hmm, you did get distracted, didn't you." Lovely, pale blue fingers glided over the information. "A calenture urn," she paused to study Bali's curious look. "Well, in some funerals, there is a little bowl." She placed her thumb and forefingers together creating a small circle. "About this big. It is usually put at the head of the deceased. In it, shaved yawen branches are placed."

"Oh." Bali tried to hide his confusion.

"You haven't been to a funeral, I take it?"

"No."

"Then you are lucky, I have attended far too many in my life." Adjani smiled allowing the mirth to reach her dark eyes. "In the funeral pyre the yawen shavings burn bright colors. It depends on the age of the wood and the time of the year of course. I was always told it burned the colors of the dead's living aura freeing their spirit from this world to join the Force. I remember at my master's funeral the calenture urn burned the brightest green I have ever seen."

"I'm sorry," Bali quickly began, fearing he had brought up some memory in the knight that he should not have.

"Why? My master rejoined the Force years ago. It was not your fault." Adjani smiled at the boy's concerned look. "Yes, I miss her but that does not mean she is gone from my life." Again, Adjani turned her attention to the display. 

Bali scanned the mass of words trying to figure out what had Adjani's attention.

"It is true, you learn something everyday." She highlighted a section of text for Bali's interest. "Your Ben'al Houk was the first Jedi to have a calenture urn with the funeral pyre."

"It wasn't an urn," Bali corrected. His finger pointed out a sentence. "His padawan Zor'ban Roa insisted on putting yawen on the bier."

"Yes," Adjani sighed. "Leave it to the Jedi to sanitize even that simple act of respect."

Bali just looked at her not understanding and the Twi'lek did not elaborate.

"So tell me," she hesitated, "what could be so important that you are researching this at such an hour. I sincerely hope you are not preparing for a funeral."

"No," Bali giggled. Again, he could feel the flush rising to his cheeks. He would have his master help him in learning to control such a silly expression of emotion. Although, he was not entirely certain what emotion was causing him to flush so. "My master and Master Yoda helped me meditate earlier and I got lost and then I met Ben'al Houk."

Adjani sat back slightly, surprise clouded her dark eyes. "I understand now. You want to learn about a Jedi blood ancestor."

Bali nodded excitedly.

"Well, let us get beyond this morbid information then." Her long fingers glided effortlessly over the display until she had eliminated most of the cross-referencing and focused on the history and life of Ben'al Houk, Sith killer. "How about this." She keyed a panel and a grainy blue image appeared above the display. An image recorded before three-dimensional holoimaging appeared. Its flatness took nothing away from the scene that played out. 

A blindfolded Jedi leapt and swung against three sighted Jedi attackers in a display of skill that Bali had never even seen before. Not even his master was that good and his master was the best. Bali briefly glanced over at Adjani and she was completely enthralled with the battle sequence. The blindfolded Jedi moved with a grace that defied the sheer speed of his actions. Twisting his weapon about, he disarmed one as he landed a boot heel to another fighter's chin. He took one step and was airborne, somersaulting over the third before sending another lightsaber flying and leaving the would-be assailant in check with the glowing blue blade. 

There was no sound to the image but Bali imagined a roar of applause from the gallery as the Jedi removed his blindfold. Bali gasped. The memory of his meeting with Ben'al Houk still very fresh in his young mind but the shock of seeing the ghost of his master sent a chill down his spine. 

"What it must have been to stand there and watch such skill in the flesh," Adjani said half in dream. Her dark eyes focused slightly. "All my time studying the archives for ancient fighting forms and the most spectacular example is stuffed away in some biographical file. There is so much information here that things are getting lost, someone should re-catalogue this place." A soft chiming caused the knight to sigh. "But it will not be me." She pulled a small communicator from her utility belt. "Adjani'esan."

Not wanting to eavesdrop, Bali opened up the biographical section on Ben'al Houk and started reading. 

Adjani let out another sigh as she stood up. "Every time I find myself in the company of a handsome young man, duty calls."

Quickly finding his feet, Bali stood up. "Thank you Knight Adjani'esan for helping me." 

"Anytime, Padawan Tiro." She gave the youth an exquisitely beautiful smile.

Bali thought he had never seen anyone as pretty as Adjani. 

"May we meet again." The Twi'lek knight turned and breezed through the stacks.

The thirteen-year-old watched until the lovely vision had passed out of view. He turned back to the information Adjani had so kindly pulled up for him. Before diving back into the text, his gaze fell back to the floating image that remained paused on Ben'al Houk's face. He wondered where his own master had gotten lost too and wished Master Mace would leave his master alone this evening. Bali wanted to share what he was learning so much with Obi-Wan.

Settling back to the center of the bench, Bali began reading. It was a slow process and many of the words he did not understand but he plowed on. His master would help explain it when he got there.

The biography was painfully long and a lot more boring than he imagined it would be for a famous Jedi. He started to scan and skip over the exceptionally tedious information.

The apprentice twisted around to look for his master although he did not sense the familiar presence. So, he continued reading through the mammoth text pausing occasionally to watch the hazy blue recording of Ben'al Houk's sparring match again.

Bali had almost reached the end of the document when he suddenly stopped.


	14. 

__

The Book of Grim Realities

Obi-Wan walked through the stacks in quiet contemplation. The conversation with Mace was poisonous leaving him feeling worse than the Sith lightning attack had. And that was a monumental task in itself. 

He tugged miserably at the edge of his cloak wishing it could do more to protect him from the cold. After days of struggling, Obi-Wan finally conceded that the icy chill that had clutched hold of his being had been compounded by the Sith master's attack. He was tired and cold and feared it would never improve. This knowledge did not bother him as much as it should have, because he could feel Bali's warm presence. In the end, that was all that mattered. 

The Jedi master straightened slightly, unwrapping himself from the tightly pulled cloak. It would do no good to walk around shivering. More than anything he just wanted to sit down for a little while and rest. He could do that while Bali happily explored Ben'al Houk's life. 

Finding Bali's familiar signature, he followed it through the vast resources to a couple empty rows of research stations. 

To his surprise, he found Bali just sitting there, staring at the passive display. The Jedi master drew close and noticed the blank screen. "Padawan?" 

Bali looked up and smiled sadly. 

All too quickly, Obi-Wan became aware of Bali's blocking. "You could have started without me, Padawan." He sat down on the gently curving bench next to the thirteen-year-old. 

"I'm not really interested anymore," Bali said softly. "I'm really tired. I think I just want to go back to my room and sleep. Big day tomorrow." He stood up pausing at the edge of the bench as bright green eyes studied his master. "Sorry to drag you all the way to the archives for no reason." 

Obi-Wan silently watched the apprentice. Leaning back slightly, he folded his arms tight across his chest. "Talk to me." 

"I am tired, Master," Bali said softly as he took a few steps away from the station. 

"Bali?" He reached for the boy, but the apprentice pulled free and ran. _Padawan!_

There was no response. 

__

Bali! 

Every instinct told him to chase after the apprentice but he knew Bali would hold in whatever it was that upset him. No amount of prying would loosen the information. 

The master turned to face the closed down station that Bali had been using. Slowly he brought his fingers up and brushed over the panel activating it. As Bali's master, he had authority to open up an index of whatever files Bali had accessed. He had never exercised it. Never had the need to blatantly invade Bali's privacy. 

There was only a moment of hesitation before Obi-Wan used his master's prerogative and called up the most recently accessed files. 

Obi-Wan had not planned to get caught up in the corridor by Mace. He had planned to be there and guide Bali through the research and information. The boy had surprised him, the Jedi thought as he scanned the information. Bali had attained it faster and more in depth than he expected. 

The first file he pulled up was the floating, two-dimensional recording of Ben'al Houk's sparring match. He watched the recording play out, as amazed at that moment as he was when he was thirteen and discovered his familial relationship with the great warrior. A small part of him was disturbed by the sensation of seeing his own face in the ancient recording. Beyond that and more than anything he understood Bali's excitement. He had just hoped to be there when Bali learned the difference between legend and painful reality. 

__

All Jedi die. 

Very few live to their twilight years, having lived the Jedi life and finding peace in their sleep. Many—too many—were cut down in their prime. Often for no reason other than being the unfortunate pawn in some political struggle. 

It was never a secret that a Jedi will give their life in the course of duty, but a thirteen-year-old does not understand that. At least not until cold, hard reality arrives on silent wings. 

Without hesitation, he drew up the last image file Bali had accessed. The same recording that had frightened him away from further research at the same tender age as his padawan. The image crackled and broke up intermittently. A damaged security cam had captured for all of eternity Ben'al Houk's last battle. 

Slaughtered at the hands of the Sith. 

Within the grainy image, a knight struggled through a debris-strewn room. One hand still clutching his lightsaber, the other holding desperately to a chest wound. The edges of the image blurred and lost focus as black shrouded figures melted from the darkness of the room. 

They moved quickly. Blue against three red lightsabers. The knight killed one before a red blade jabbed into his right thigh sending the already injured Jedi to his knees. A vicious flash of red sliced deep into the knight's abdomen. The Sith watched and although their faces were unseen, Obi-Wan knew they enjoyed Ben'al's slow death. 

Another flash of red as the beast's lightsaber was driven through the Jedi just below his right collarbone. Ben'al Houk's expression reflected the Jedi serenity that had always been a part of his life as calm acceptance overrode any pain he might be suffering. A swift jerk of the weapon and the crimson blade ripped through the knight's chest and severing his arm in a single, fluid motion. Ben'al Houk was dead before his body hit the ground. As quickly as the shrouded forms appeared, they vanished, returning to the darkness from which they came. 

The image fluctuated into static before clearing slightly. In the center of the grainy image lay Ben'al Houk, the greatest Sith killer to ever walk the Temple corridors. Dead at thirty-seven. 

Obi-Wan silently studied the image for a time. He remembered the horror of learning what it meant to die in service to the Order and yet, be unwilling to turn his back on his duty. Without question, he understood the terror that was flowing behind his padawan's shielded mind.

_________________

__

The Book of Games

"Help me," a shaky voice called out. "Please." Taka Gola, a lobbyist for the Ozo Tamite Mining Company went looking for a few good friends in high political stations found something else. She stumbled over the narrow catwalk that curved above the false dome of the Senate Chamber. One of her black high heels was broken. She struggled, limping slowly toward a light. "Help me," her voice wavered and echoed all around. Her black, well-tailored suit shined where blood had run down over the material. Her right cheek had been slashed open and warm blood oozed freely from the wound. "Help me," she kept repeating as she hobbled toward the light cross section.

Her dark brown hair had been tied up into intricate knots, revealing the creamy flesh of her neck and the deep gash that marred it.

"Help me," she sobbed. She did not have the credentials to get into the Senate Office building so she decided to leave a few gifts of appreciation from the mining company at their offices in the Senate. 

There was a shadow and the next she knew she was laying on the catwalk. The light was just a head but the broken heel made her stumble and fall against the durasteel rail. "Someone, please help me."

"You cannot escape me," Vengier hissed appearing from the shadows.

"No!" Taka cried out as she struggled to regain her footing. 

The shrouded figure moved silently toward the struggling woman. A clawed hand lashed out from the layers of black, tearing through the finely woven material. Taka shrieked as she stumbled and fell. 

"Fear is such a powerful emotion." Vengier hovered menacingly over the frightened, wounded woman. "It emanates from you like a thick miasma. You think you are afraid of dying, but I think you are more afraid of the pain."

"No, no, don't hurt me," Taka begged and started sobbing as she clutched her bleeding arm.

"You would prefer a quick, painless death?"

"Don't kill me," Taka said so softly that she was barely heard within the massive dome.

"Oh, don't worry," Vengier mocked Sidious' cruel yet playful tone. "I promise it will be swift in the end." Hissing softly. "But not yet."

Taka screamed as she was ripped from the cool catwalk. Her hair pulling as both Sith and victim dropped off the edge of the walkway into the dark shadows below. They landed near a panel and Vengier easily kicked it free.

Far below was the vast, empty senate chamber. Representative's platforms remained parked and darkened in the low lighting. 

Reaching out with the Force, Vengier called to the Naboo delegation's platform. The carriage hummed to life and swept out and hovered in the center of the chamber.

Taka was still sobbing when Vengier tossed her through the opening. With little interest, Vengier watched the woman struggle as she fell through the chamber, crashing into the side of the Naboo platform. A sickening snap echoed through the empty room as Taka's limp form dangled over the platform's side. 

"Almost missed," Vengier laughed before leaping through the opening. The black shroud fluttered like dark wings before the Sith landed gracefully on the edge opposite Taka's broken form. Black boots stomped over the cushioned seating, and a clawed hand grabbed a fist full of Taka's hair again. 

The lobbyist groaned softly as she was drug to the center of the platform. "Please," Taka begged.

"Please?" Wicked laughter tore from the expressionless black mask. Vengier twisted Taka's head around to stare into the young woman's dull green eyes. "You remind me of someone I used to know."

"Have mercy," Taka pleaded as her body slumped to one side.

"You ask for mercy? You don't deserve mercy." 

"Stop!" A deep voice rang out through the chamber.

Vengier twisted to see a tall Jedi knight with a long shock of white hair enter the vast chamber. "An audience," the Sith cheered. 

"Help me," Taka whispered even as her eyes drooped closed.

The Sith wrapped dark tendrils of the Force around the dying woman. Feasting on the slowing of blood through her veins as internal bleeding took its toll. "It will be over soon," the dark lord whispered. 

The young knight sprang from platform to platform, quickly approaching the Naboo pod. Just as he was about to make the leap, Vengier turned to face him.

"Release her!" The Jedi demanded.

"As you wish." Vengier pulled Taka's head back and brought clawed fingers over the dark haired woman's exposed throat. Taka fell limply to the floor of the platform, quickly becoming the center of a red pool. 

The Sith's attention fell to the shocked Jedi's face. "Your turn." Drawing on the tainted Force, Vengier was propelled from the Naboo platform to the one the Jedi stood on. "Pretty Jedi meat," Vengier crooned, revealing a crimson lightsaber blade.

"I demand you surrender," the knight demanded.

"Foolish pup," Vengier growled, lashing out with a violent Force push that threw the Jedi from the platform. Leaning over the edge, the Sith watched as the white haired Jedi crashed into a lower level platform. Before the young man had come to a stop, Vengier leapt. Showing a rare sense of mercy, the Sith beheaded the Jedi.

Bringing a black boot out, Vengier kicked the body over the ledge listening until the dull thud echoed through the chamber. Then the dark lord sank to the curved seat in the platform. Addressing the bodiless head that lay in the floor, the Sith spoke rather jovially. "I think Senator Organa could use your help protecting his platform."

The blood stained gloves snapped up the Jedi's head and Vengier bounded through the chamber to the Alderaan delegation's platform. At the podium, Vengier propped the white haired Jedi's head up on it. "Perfect." Poking a talon tipped finger to the dead Jedi's nose Vengier laughed. "I hope the Senator appreciates his protection."

Delight danced through the Sith at the thought of the impending encounter with Obi-Wan.

"Soon, I shall finish what I should have years ago."

_________________________

Book of Flesh and Bone Part VII

__

A cool breeze had settled in, wrapping itself around the research colony. Soft whistles blew through the white buildings that rose above the red Xim soil. Golden pebbles glinted in Aura Masa's dying light as day began to fade. Soft footsteps crushed the shimmering pebbles underfoot. "Stop!" Halla called out. The pebbles dug into her feet, as the moccasins she wore were not made for running over the winding paths; they belonged on the cool marble of the grand house. She felt as if she were running on sand as she trudged toward the figure staring out over the horizon. 

The golden light of Aura Masa silhouetted the heavily cloaked figure. The purifying light seemed to burn away the edges of his calm expression. "You cannot be leaving yet," she half cried out as she slowed her approach. "It has only been a few days. The negotiations are still going on."

"They failed," was the dull reply. 

"No." Halla carefully stepped to the ledge that Obi-Wan stood precariously close to. "They have to try again."

"No more tries." The knight stared out over the Xim village below silently studying it.

"You just got here. You have been so busy with the mission that we have barely had a chance to speak." A wealth of illness bubbled up in her at the thought of her weakness. Halla had promised herself she would be strong. This Jedi's arrival meant nothing to her. At least, that was what she wanted to believe and now after only a few days, nothing of what she wanted to say had been said. The very small part of her that had quietly taken the Jedi Council's decree was as outraged by the knight's silence then as she was now. "Do not ignore me, Obi-Wan."

In a well-worn action, Obi-Wan carefully pulled his cloak tight in protection against the chilling air. Then the Jedi turned sharply. The warm light of the Xim sun did little to take the chill from his pale blue eyes.

As if reacting to a wild beast, Halla withdrew carefully.

"You should return to the main house, Milady," Obi-Wan said evenly. 

Incensed, Halla lashed out, striking Obi-Wan's cheek. The snap of flesh against flesh echoed through the crisp air. "You and your damned formality!" Maybe it should have been his damned stubbornness. "What is my name?" she demanded. "Tell me. For once, call me by my name or do you hate me that much?"

"I do not have time for this," Obi-Wan replied as he started to turn away. "I have a mission to complete." He shrugged deeper into his cloak.

Halla's anger quickly subsided as she again noted the simple action of seeking warmth. In the last few days, she had seen him wrap his cloak tight fighting against some internal chill. The sight always left her feeling helpless. He would not allow her the chance to understand why and it bothered her terribly. Upset that her anger had gained the best of her she reached out, gently clutching his wrist. "Take me with you," Halla begged softly.

Shaking his head slightly, Obi-Wan whispered. "No." Although the word was spoken softly, the resolution never wavered.

Refusing to let go Halla tightened her grip on his wrist. "You are going to the lower end of the colony." She ignored the sharp look Obi-Wan shot her. A delicate finger pointed to the sun. "Altiro is sinking behind the horizon." There was a desperate need in her voice when she whispered the true name of the planet's sun. "They do not speak Basic there. You will need a translator."

"I will not require such assistance." Obi-Wan tried to pull free of her but the young woman held on tight.

"You have to take me."

"I work alone."

"You can't speak Ximi."

"I don't need to," Obi-Wan growled as he freed himself of the tight grip and began to walk away.

Halla just stood there, shocked. How could he be so unfeeling toward her aftereverything? "Obi-Wan." Again she reached for him but he shrugged away from her touch. "You act like I am a complete stranger to you."

At the remark, Obi-Wan paused and gazed tiredly at her. "Not complete, but close enough."

"I guess I deserved that."

Ignoring her, Obi-Wan took time to check his gear before glancing back at Halla. 

"You will thank your husband for me for his hospitality."

All of the reasons she had hated him before came rushing back to her. The young woman was rocked by the knowledge she had willed herself to forget the moment she met the knight just days ago. She straightened suddenly afraid of feeling weak in front of him. Yet, in those cold blue eyes, framed by gentle waves of ginger hair that she had so longed to brush her fingers through, she knew he could read her weakness.

"You will stay here and be the grand lady you are supposed to be," a touch of bitterness floated in his voice, "not trotting through the colony's lower quarters."

"I am not fragile, after all I was a Jedi once."

"Once," Obi-Wan sighed and stared dully at Halla. "I am grateful that you are well and alive. I wish you well in this life." Finished with the conversation, the Jedi turned away.

"So this is it?" Halla reached out again and clasped his wrist to stop the preparations. The happy little zing of the Force moving between them shortly shook her before she re-gained her composure. The realization of what it had once represented made her sad. 

"Halla, please, I need to focus on the mission."

The dark haired woman withdrew slightly. "It's always about the mission, isn't it? I had forgotten that you always put being a Jedi above everything and everyone else." In anger she pulled away as her anger bloomed. "Fine. Go on your mission. Do whatever it is you are supposed to do. Earn the appreciation of the high and mighty Jedi Council. Do you think they really appreciate what you do for them? They will run you into the ground and when you are dead, they will replace you with the next naïve fool that comes along." The rage she had spent years keeping in check laced her voice. "You are expendable, don't you get it?" Fits flew through the air and she mercilessly brought them down against the knight's chest. "Qin Luc is nothing. My husband will hire a team to go in and kill those rebels to get her back. There are always other ways than a peaceful, bloodless resolution." 

Obi-Wan clutched her wrists, relieving himself of the battering Halla was providing. Shocked, hurt eyes studied the sobbing woman.

The anger inspired strength was quickly sapped and Halla sank to the ground. "There is always blood," she wept. Her hands still tight in Obi-Wan's grip as watery green eyes stared up. "Don't go. Please. She isn't worth it. Dying isn't worth it. Leave while you still can." 

_________________________

__

The Book of the Old Age

A bowl of warm gruel in front of him, Yoda sat down to a leisurely meal after another trying day. The ancient master's mind began to consider the events but quickly stifled such a frustrating thought. It would do little good to ruin his meal with things he obviously had no control over. Besides, the little master was expecting company. 

A message had been sent to him warning of a certain historical record had been accessed. Twice. 

The only question that remained was which one would show up at his door first.

Just a few bites into his meal and Yoda stopped, sensing an overwhelming feeling of grief. He reached out sending a simple command through the Force and opened the door. 

A very startled Bali Tiro stood there. His cheeks glistened where tears had made their path. The apprentice frowned and started to retreat.

"Come, young one," Yoda prompted as he motioned toward the slump shoulder figure. "Come. Late it is," the little master said softly, "for young padawan's to be wondering about."

Tear rimmed green eyes studied Yoda for a moment before Bali stepped into the apartment. The apprentice looked like a giant next to the small furnishings. Frowning, Bali folded his arms across his chest in a manner that reminded Yoda so much of Obi-Wan.

Yoda hopped down from his chair and hobbled over to the uncomfortable figure in the middle of the apartment. He grabbed Bali's sleeve and pulled him over to a collection of floor pillows and motioned him to sit. 

Without question, Bali obeyed but his bright green eyes held a question in them that Yoda could not ignore.

"Speak, you will. Nothing you will learn if you keep it bottled up inside."

Worry fluttered over the young apprentice's brow as he wiggled himself into a more comfortable position. "How old are you, Master?"

Yoda leaned against his gimer stick considering the question and how to answer it. It was not the first time he had been put into the same position. This time he did not feel it could be answered the same way. A small, clawed finger pointed out the wrinkles of a long life around his large yellow eyes. "Old, I am."

Bali seemed to consider the evasive answer for a moment before continuing with his questioning. "Did you know Ben'al Houk?"

The little master laughed as a green hand pressed to Bali's shoulder. "Not that old, am I." Yoda could sense the struggle behind the boy's eyes. "Died long before I was born."

"Oh." 

The ancient master's ears twitched slightly as he studied the forlorn figure. "Where is your master?"

"At the archives, I think. Maybe. I ran off." Bali buried his face in the sleeves of his tunic. 

"Hmm, saw something you did."

The apprentice did not answer, only silently rocked.

Strange, the little master thought, he remembered another thirteen-year-old padawan suffering from a similar shock and the mistakes that had been made before. "Should not have run. Share your concerns with your master, you should have."

"No." Bali's voice was muffled.

Yoda was about to respond when he stopped. His attention turned toward the door, a gentle wave of a small clawed hand sent the door sliding open revealing a very concerned Obi-Wan. 

"Master," Obi-Wan said softly as he bowed but his head remained tilted to see the curled up form of his apprentice. 

"Not difficult finding the boy?" Yoda waved Obi-Wan into the apartment.

"I figured he would come here."

"Much like you, the boy reminds me of."

With Yoda's silent permission, Obi-Wan quickly moved to the center of the floor pillows and knelt next to the huddled apprentice. 

"I should have waited," sounded Bali's muffled voice. "I got help and then I got excited about the record. I did not know what was on it. I am sorry."

Obi-Wan gently wrapped an arm around Bali's slumped shoulders. "Since when do you apologize for learning something?"

"Shocking it is to witness our own mortality," Yoda said as he continued to study the concerned master's gentle reaction to the upset child.

Obi-Wan reached into the folds of Bali's tunic sleeves and found the buried face. Gently he caught hold of the boy's chin and tipped the sad face up into the warm yellow light of the apartment. "Hiding your face isn't going to change facts."

"You know?" Bali asked softly as he fell against his master's side seeking comfort and protection. "It doesn't bother you?" he asked in a small voice.

"Of course it does. We both know there would be something wrong with me if it didn't."

Bali giggled as a smile leapt to his formerly sad features. Then a solemnity found him as he asked, "Is that going to happen to us?"

The young master brushed his fingers through Bali's short brown spikes. "Few Jedi die like that."

Bright green eyes looked to Yoda for confirmation.

The little master nodded. 


	15. 

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The Book of Guilty Consciences

"What kind of monsters enjoy killing like that?" Bali asked softly. "He was hurt and there were three of them." Panic rose quickly with every word spoken. "And he was already hurt!" The memory of the recording fired him, sending Bali leaping to his feet and out of his master's protective hold. "He was hurt!" Bali kept repeating as a range of emotions bubbled within the thirteen-year-old. "He was hurt." Spinning around, Bali's gaze fell to Yoda. "Why didn't he have help? Where was his padawan? Why was he alone?"

"Padawan," Obi-Wan called softly, reaching for the agitated boy. 

"They enjoyed watching him die. They like to watch Jedi die." Bali pulled away from his master's grip, focusing entirely on Yoda. "He was hurt. The Council sent him anyway!"

"Padawan," Obi-Wan said sternly, pulling the angry child back from Yoda. "Calm down." Strong arms gripped Bali's shoulders, keeping him from breaking free. "It is the past and blaming Master Yoda cannot change that. All we can do is strive to understand and not make the same errors again."

Yoda's long green ears drooped slightly. "An error?" he asked quizzically. "An error you think we made?"

The younger master slowly brought his attention from Bali to Yoda. "Master?"

"An entity, the Council is–not a collection of different beings over the years–a living being. One mind, one opinion. The composition changes nothing." The little master shook his head sadly. "A mistake we made."

Both Obi-Wan and Bali knelt on the pillows, quietly studying the small master as he hobbled about the room.

"But Master, Ben'al Houk died long before you were born," Obi-Wan said evenly. "You had nothing to do with what happened to him."

"Listen to me, you did not!" Yoda replied gruffly. "Abide by rules made long before you were born, do you?"

"Yes, Master."

"Does it matter when they were made?"

"No, Master."

Bali watched the two Jedi carefully but confusion remained painted on his youthful features. 

"Accept the word of the Council, I do. Does not matter when it was spoken. Take pride in their achievements, I do. Feel regret for their errors, I must. Strive I will to make amends for the Council's mistakes." Yoda sighed loudly as his large gaze fell to Bali. "Died, Ben'al Houk did for the Council's arrogance. So good he was, forgot the Council did, that he was mortal." Green feet shuffled about before Yoda finally settled on a floor pillow across from the young master and padawan. "Know, the Council did not, that he was still injured in a previous battle with a Sith."

Still confused by Yoda's statement, Bali tried to argue, "You–they–made him kill Sith. It said so in the biography. You would not let him stop when he wanted too!" 

"Padawan," Obi-Wan said calmly, pulling Bali back slightly. Through their bond he sought to send calming waves but the Force felt blocked by Bali's loss of emotional control.

"No, Master," Bali said quickly, bright green eyes worriedly searching his master's blue. "Don't you see?" He pointed a finger toward Yoda. "Him–they killed him."

"You are agitated and not listening," Obi-Wan tried to ease the upset child.

Grabbing his gimer stick, Yoda reached out with lightning quick speed and whacked Obi-Wan across the back of the neck garnering his undivided attention. "Deaf, you are! Correct, young Bali is. Killed him, the Council willfully did." Sadness engulfed the small master. "Know then, what we do now, the Council did not."

Obi-Wan said nothing.

In that silence, Bali found peace. Worry touched Obi-Wan's mind and carefully calming himself, he sent the boy a comforting pulse. 

"Desperate times, they were," Yoda said.

"He volunteered?" Obi-Wan asked hopefully, breaking his silence.

Yoda shook his head. "No." 

A terrible silence hung in the room. 

"What did they do?" The Jedi softly inquired as he obviously struggled to maintain a calm tone.

"A different time, it was," the little master repeated as he sadly shook his head. "Against a great threat the Sith represented, Master Houk and his apprentice weresacrificed."

Once, Obi-Wan had thought he was expendable. His life worthless compared to the rest of the Order and willingly offered it up for sacrifice. But that was just his own opinion to justify the feeling of not belonging. "No Jedi is expendable," Obi-Wan whispered a mantra that had always been taught. To die in the course of protecting the innocent and maintaining justice in the galaxy was what they were trained to do. A commitment they had made. But being considered expendable was different; it was a punishment to be sentence to death for no reason. It was a death without meaning.

"To strike a blow against our enemy, it was the only way. Knew Master Houk would kill many Sith in the battle. Knew the Council did, he would be killed. Choice, the Council did not have." Yoda paused. "In the end, made himself bait to the Sith, allowing his apprentice to escape with his life."

Bali shifted a little closer to Obi-Wan's side. 

"You lied to me, Master," Obi-Wan said evenly. "Years ago, when I asked you about Ben'al Houk, you said he was part of a diplomatic envoy that was attacked."

"Lied, I did not," Yoda hesitated, "from a certain point of view. Eliminated certain truths."

"Why?" 

"Young you were." Yoda stirred his gimer stick about the floor. "Qui-Gon did not want you burdened." There was another pause. "Would have made you unduly wary of the Council."

"What about Bali?" Obi-Wan asked softly. "You think he is not going to be burdened?"

"A good teacher he has," Yoda said firmly, "will get through this, he will." 

Obi-Wan and Bali exchanged worried glances, and the young master could feel the boy's concern, but it was tinted with warm determination. 

"Saw, Qui-Gon did," Yoda spoke up as he stopped stirring his gimer stick about, "a mistake we were repeating with you. Argued with the Council, he did. Understand we did not, until–"

For a time, the little master remained silent. "Died on a mission soon, you would have. Destroying you, we were. Expendable, you had become. A mistake we could not afford to make." Yoda's large gaze found Bali's worried green eyes. He gave the boy a warm smile. "A change had to be made. Responsible we would not be for willfully killing another Jedi. We already had too much blood on our hands." 

__________________

The Book of the Master and Padawan Part VIII

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A gentle hum cascaded through the passenger cruiser as the ship sped toward Coruscant. It provided a gentle lullaby for two of its very tired passengers. The business class compartment was only a third full and most of the passengers had taken the long flight as a moment to relax and catch up on lost sleep or do business. 

Sitting comfortably in one of the seats, Obi-Wan glanced away from his mission notes to study the ten-year-old apprentice in the seat next to him. Bali's feet swung about, as he was still too short to reach the floor. Bali paused from his class work and glanced up, offering Obi-Wan a weary grin before returning to the drudgery of his studies.

Exhaustion had finally overcome Bali's excitement of going on his first mediating mission. The boy did well, even if he did get bored with the slow proceedings of working out a contract between the miners and the Cor'dua Mining Company. It was just the yearly contract negotiations but it was a different kind of mission for the apprentice. The contract negotiations had always had a history of turning extremely violent until a petition to the Senate and Jedi Council had brought them peacefully under control for the last four decades. It was an easy, but long mission, which allowed Bali to see just how mediation should go. 

Besides, it was good practice for a Jedi who had not mediated any disputes in several years. Always by the time he was called, the only option left was action. The mission to the mining colony had been a welcome change to the more diplomatic missions they had been sent on in recent months. He was tired of delivering official documentation. 

They were Jedi not a messenger service.

Obi-Wan knew that Bali was still too young and too inexperienced to be pulled into missions with a propensity for danger. He would just have to get used to the soft missions for Bali's sake. The days of near suicide missions were long over and the funny part was, he did not mind. 

A quick hand lightly grasped Bali's shoulder just as the boy was about to nosedive into the back of the seat in front of him. Gently he pulled the drowsing boy back into his seat.

"I'm awake!" Bali startled then melted into a sleepy grumble before settling again. The apprentice strained, then brought his attention back to his studies.

Obi-Wan hesitated before returning to his own notes. Beyond the formal report, he also had to keep a record on how Bali functioned on the mission. Of course, the apprentice had been exceptional, working very hard to be the vision of Jedi calm and following every instruction and prompt. The days on the colony were extremely long and toward the end of each day, pent up energy got the better of Bali. The boy daily succumbed to uncontrollable wiggles and anxious behavior before the day's negotiations could wind down. Running Bali through a series of katas and general saberplay each evening helped to calm him. 

There was a soft grunt as Bali jerked himself awake again.

"You will not get much studying done with your eyes closed, Padawan."

"I'm awake," Bali argued stubbornly as he re-situated himself in the seat.

"If you say so."

Within moments, the boy was slumping again. This time the master offered up a light sleep suggestion then carefully pried the data pad from Bali's grip. Gentle hands propped the apprentice up in the seat. The tired body slid sideways, coming to a rest against Obi-Wan's arm. The young master could not help the smile as he stared down into the little face mashed in the folds of his cloak. 

___________________

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The Book of Worry

"With all due respect," Qui-Gon gruffly countered as he shifted to better look around the room. "I hardly believe that my padawan and I are the only Jedi capable of protecting the Senator." The imposing Jedi master roughly folded his arms across his chest as he offered the circle of twelve a defiant look.

Mace shook his head as he leaned forward in his seat. "Our hands are tied."

"Since when?" 

"This argument is pointless," Ki-Adi Mundi said. He studied the rebellious master before continuing. "Understand that there are forces at work beyond our control. While we strive to gain knowledge we must bow to the Chancellor's wishes."

"You think the Chancellor is behind these assassinations? What could he accomplish by tearing the Republic apart?" Qui-Gon asked as his gaze swept the room taking in each passive expression. 

"Know this, we do not," Yoda replied. "Believe we do that the Sith are behind the approaching civil war. Watch Palpatine and us, they will. Appear suspicious we must not. A weakness, the Sith would exploit. Dangerous times these are, careful we must be."

Qui-Gon sighed loudly. "I understand." Not really, but he could see that the Council was more stubborn than he was. 

"This assassin," Mace interjected, "has not succeeded in killing the Naboo senator yet. It is best to believe another attempt is being planned as we speak." There was a long pause. Mace studied his long time friend before shifting his gaze to the ancient Jedi master in the seat next to his. With Yoda's silent nod, Mace began slowly. "Security has been stepped up at both the Senatorial Office building and the Senate itself. Our mysterious assassin dispatched a lobbyist and Knight Pesele during the night."

"He was just a boy," Qui-Gon said, remembering the blond haired Jedi, the recent apprentice of Tor Ito. 

"Knighted just a few months ago," Depa Billaba added. "He was beheaded by a lightsaber. His corpse left at the base of the Senate chamber, his head propped upon the podium of the Alderaan delegation."

Plo Koon hissed through his breathing mask. "The Naboo senator's platform was alsodefiled. The body of a woman was found on the floor. Her throat slit and her heart removed."

Immediately, Qui-Gon's thoughts flashed back to the encounter with the Sith in the corridor. The one that had so easily taken his apprentice out. Had he not arrived when he did, Anakin would have suffered a similar fate as Pesele. Now the youth was even more distracted by the pretty senator. More reason, Qui-Gon decided, to keep Anakin away from Amidala. 

As if reading the graying Jedi's thoughts, Mace spoke up. "For now, you must have faith in your padawan to remain focused on the mission."

Normally he did have faith, but the tall Jedi master knew just how intoxicating love could be. His own experience had taught him that logic is often lost behind emotion and things that should have been important were often forgotten or pushed to the side. 

Love would make his apprentice more vulnerable to the Sith assassin's deadly attack. 

_______________

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The Book of Ashes

Bali struggled to keep caught up with his master's unusually quick pace. The thirteen-year-old nearly broke out into a run just to keep from falling behind as Obi-Wan marched through a corridor deep in the Senatorial Office Building. Footsteps echoed throughout the long, dimly lit hallway. Reaching out on the Force, Bali scanned his surroundings sensing the life of the entire building above him as well as the few scattered figures lurking in the corridor. He could feel wariness from the beings around them and did not wish to show weakness before these strangers. He was either growing tired or Obi-Wan had picked up his pace, if that were possible. 

__

Master, slow down please, the apprentice begged through the training bond.

Instantly Obi-Wan stopped and Bali smashed right into the Jedi. He caught Bali before the boy could tumble to the floor. Gently he knelt and straightened the mushed up cloak and tunic. "Forgive me, Padawan," Obi-Wan said softly. "I am distracted."

The apprentice nodded eagerly in agreement.

A frown quickly graced the Jedi's face as he stood up. "Thank you for your support."

Bali grinned as he fell into place at his master's side. He folded his arms across his chest in the same manner that his master often did. The two mirrored each other before Obi-Wan broke into a smile and ruffled Bali's short spiked hair. 

"Master!" Bali playfully cried out as he fixed the flattened spikes.

"Come, Padawan, we have a few things to do before Senator Organa's transport arrives."

"Yes, Master." Bali followed Obi-Wan as they delved deeper into building, to one of the older levels. They passed viewing decks that centuries ago had stared out above the city planet but now lay deep below the skyline.

Bali paused to look out of the viewing deck at another building that had been built precariously close. It was dark and dingy. He had been to the lower levels many times, but he never liked it. The shadows from the massive buildings left the lower levels in perpetual night and always left him feeling uneasy. 

__

Padawan.

Coming! Bali broke into a sprint to catch up with his master. He winced as Obi-Wan breezed toward the nearest staircase. He glanced around searching for a lift bay but found none.

"There are no lifts this far down in the building, Padawan."

"Why not?"

"This is a very old building and the deeper we go the older each section gets." Obi-Wan paused to stare at Bali's confused look. "Buildings were not always so tall they required lifts."

"Oh." Naturally he did not understand. Buildings in Coruscant were massively tall and it seemed silly to think there were no lifts.

"Remember, Padawan, the deepest levels of the Temple do not have lifts."

Bali thought about it for a moment and agreed. In their explorations of the ancient Temple, they had descended to the lowest levels. 

Once, they had stood in a workshop full of broken down maintenance droids. All Bali could see was dark walls and the grimy appearance of the cluttered room. It meant nothing to him until his master pointed out the circular shape of the room. Smudging the dirty floor and sending dust scattering, his master's boot revealed a familiar tile pattern. In the small, windowless room, Bali saw the ghost of a long forgotten Council chamber. 

Immediately the memory of the previous night came thundering back to the apprentice. "They are still doing it."

"Yes, Padawan," Obi-Wan tiredly replied just as he came to a stop on a landing between floors. 

Bali stood several steps up and could look his master in the eye. "But Master Yoda said he knew what they were doing was wrong. They are sending us to face that Sith assassin. Can't Master Yoda send someone else?"

"It is not his decision, Padawan."

"But–"

Obi-Wan rested a firm, but gentle hand on Bali's shoulder. "We are Jedi, we serve. We do not get to pick and choose who and when we help."

"You are angry with Master Yoda."

"No, Padawan." He led Bali down the last flight of stairs. "I am justuncertain."

Bali scrunched up his face in thought then relaxed as he allowed a light probing of the training bond. He felt the weariness of so many back-to-back missions and the pain caused by the battle with the Sith. The apprentice felt an embarrassed flush rise to his cheeks when he remembered how he had kept his master up most of the night as well. 

At the very bottom level off offices, just above the hum of the building's internal systems, Obi-Wan stopped and stared at Bali again. "Now is not the time to dwell on the past. You must focus on the here and now. We are preparing for a potentially dangerous situation and focusing on things we cannot change will only distract us."

"Yes, Master," Bali replied dutifully as he followed Obi-Wan through the long corridor. They passed by many locked doors before arriving at one that was wide open. The boy strained to look beyond his master's cloak and into the large but very cluttered office. A high pitched whine caught Bali's attention as he quickly looked around before realizing the sound was coming from a force field generator around the open door.

Obi-Wan palmed the chime and waited. 

And waited. 

They stood there so long Bali's feet began to ache. 

With a sigh, Obi-Wan reached toward the Force field. "You didn't see this."

"Yes, Master."

The Jedi's fingers brushed against the invisible wall. The room inside twisted and contorted as Obi-Wan applied fine control of the Force against the barrier. There was a static snap. A purple glow as the force field bubbled and separated allowing the two Jedi access to the office. As soon as they had passed through, another snap filled the air as the field popped back into place. 

Bali turned back to stare at the nearly invisible wall. "Why didn't you just shut it off?" 

A sweep of his hand and Obi-Wan pointed out a very complex control panel. "It would have taken to long."

"Oh." Bali looked around the empty security office. "Master?"

"Yes, Padawan?"

"Is this breaking and entering?"

"Yes."

"Isn't it illegal?"

"Yes."

"Are we going to get in trouble?"

"Depends."

Bali scrunched up his face in response to his master's elusiveness. He was about to ask another question when he sensed someone approaching.

In the doorway appeared the Senate Security Inspector Ekaro Kinyo; the silver forehead tattoos glinted in the light of the force field emitters. "I see old habits die hard," he laughed as a remote control deactivated the field. 

"I need to keep in practice somehow," Obi-Wan replied as he shook hands with Kinyo. Then withdrew to tug at the edges of his cloak. 

Bali quickly followed the Jedi and the inspector as Kinyo led them beyond the main office into a cleaner secondary room. It was smaller with a long table and a series of chairs around it. At his master's silent prompting, Bali took a seat next to Obi-Wan and crossways from Kinyo at the table. At first, he folded his hands across the smooth surface but that felt uncomfortable so he placed them in his lap. He noted how his master had his arms folded across the tabletop and occasionally drew his fingers along the surface to illustrate some point in his discussion with Kinyo. Bali mildly mimicked Obi-Wan as he watched the two continue to discuss security issues.

"I will tell you what I don't like," Kinyo said with an air of concern, "I don't like that protection the Chancellor insisted on offering Senator Amidala of Naboo. Those security droids are little more than battle droids with surface reprogramming. One glitch and they are liable to wipe out the entire level as well as a couple of senators."

"The Chancellor wouldn't put anything that dangerous in the tower."

Kinyo leaned back in his seat and studied Obi-Wan curiously. "I was under the impression you had been working fairly closely with the Chancellor, Kenobi."

"Unfortunately."

"And you trust him?"

"I serve," the ginger haired Jedi replied. "He is a politician, trusting him is a moot point."

"That is going to be the downfall of you Jedi. You serve without question. I do not trust Palpatine. I have been around politicians enough to know they are excessive, spoiled, egocentric and power hungry, but there is something very wrong with that man."

Bali sensed a ripple of uncertainty flow through his master before it was crushed beneath intense shielding. 

"Don't you Jedi sense it or something? Or is it just me?"

"Once a pirate, always a pirate?" Obi-Wan asked a little too jovially.

The apprentice did not like the shielding his master was employing to hide something from him.

Kinyo broke out into a deep, rich laugh. The long, thin braids of his dark hair rapped softly against the back of his chair. "Never know when this gig will run out and I will have to go back into business for myself. Suspicion is what has kept me alive all these years."

Obi-Wan's tone quickly sobered. "Speaking of the old business. I bet you still have connections to Xim."

At the mention of the planet, Bali brightened. He remembered that Captain Kinyo had told him that he was named after a moon there.

A slow nod was all Kinyo offered.

The Jedi leaned forward and spoke in a low tone. "I want to know about Ighista Trocha."

"I will check." Kinyo paused to study the master. The silver tattoos glinted in the yellow light of the office as his gaze shifted from Obi-Wan to Bali before returning to the older Jedi. "He's gone from there."

"You know that for sure?"

"It's been six years. He would have reared his head by now."

"I think he has," Obi-Wan replied evenly.

"The assassinations?" The inspector shook his head. "No. Trocha was many things but not a cold-blooded assassin. He was a healer or something like that."

"Was being the operative word." Obi-Wan never let his pale blue gaze waver from Kinyo. "He didn't have a problem killing Halla and trying to kill me."

"He was very jealous of men's attentions toward his wife. I was smart and kept my distance. Besides, these are mainly corrupt politicians that are being eviscerated. Whether it was publicly known or not these Senator's had their hands in some real dirty dealings."

"They also shut down his facilities."

Kinyo did not waver. "And you were the one who delivered the information on his research to the Senate. Maybe you should spend your time looking out for yourself and not some senators."

Bali looked worriedly to his master but felt a comforting pulse through their bond. His master did not immediately respond to the inspector's pointed remark. The longer the Jedi remained silent, the more Bali became concerned.

Slowly, Obi-Wan looked to his worried apprentice offering the boy a small smile. Bali braced himself, afraid that his master would send him from the room before continuing the conversation. The Jedi master frowned as if sensing the boy's worry. Intense blue eyes focused on Kinyo even as he hesitated. "What did they do with Halla?"

"I always wondered when you were going to ask that," Kinyo replied solemnly. "Apparently, as I have been told, the Xim tried to emulate a Jedi funeral pyre."

"They don't burn?"

"No, burial in the catacombs." Kinyo leaned back in his chair. "For years she fed the Xim younglings tales of Jedi Knights. She did a lot of good with her humanitarian work around the villages; she was their voice against the research colony's expansion into their homes. They had never seen a Jedi but believed her stories and thought to honor her in death like one of your kind."

____________________

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The Book of Jealously

Bali shifted nervously in the lift compartment before looking up at Obi-Wan. "Master?" he asked softly as the lift raced its way up through the Senatorial Office Tower.

Snapping out of his daze, Obi-Wan pulled at the edges of his cloak seeking that much needed warmth before glancing over at the boy. "Yes, Padawan?" he asked a little too wearily. Through the training bond, he could feel the apprentice's apprehension. "It is all right, Padawan. You should never be afraid to ask me anything."

Bali thought about it a moment. "Who was Halla?"

"Someone I cared about." He sighed wishing he knew how to explain it to his thirteen-year-old apprentice. He folded his arms deep into the billowing sleeves of his cloak as he considered what to say next.

A curious look swept across Bali's bright green eyes. "But she died? You said Trocha killed her and tried to kill you?" The apprentice frowned. "Is Trocha the Sith from Senator Amidala's apartment?"

"No, Padawan. That wassomeone else." The more he had a chance to think about the confrontation the more he knew there was something he was missing. Something about the lightning wielding Sith reminded himhe shook his head. A haze remained firmly in his mind and nothing; not even deep meditation could lift it. 

"Oh."

Callused fingers brushed through Bali's short spikes eliciting the usual complaint. Then Obi-Wan gently tipped the boy's face up, revealing bright green eyes. "We will discuss this at a more appropriate time, all right?"

"Yes, Master." There was a beat. "Did you care about her more than you care about me?"

Obi-Wan just looked at the worried expression on his padawan. "Why would you think that?"

"I am not a baby, Master. I know you loved her. I just was wondering if you cared as much about me because I am your padawanbecause you have too." Another short pause. "Like your master."

At those three simple words, Obi-Wan knelt to be on the level with his concerned padawan. "Bali?" he asked, offering a small smile as he tugged on the flame tipped padawan braid. "You worry too much."

Bali frowned. 

"You are my only concern. What I felt for Halla was different and it cannot compare to how I feel about you."

The boy gave a small smile. 

An elusive warning through the Force put Obi-Wan on the defensive just as the lift glided to a halt and the doors slid open. Rising back to his feet he reached for his lightsaber but froze at the sight that awaited him. 

Brightly painted red lips licked to a shine greeted the Jedi. "Master Kenobi," Jira purred. Her very blond hair was tied up in a wild design more appropriate for the lower level clubs than for the Senate Tower. 

Very quickly Obi-Wan and Bali exited the lift and stepped aside for Jira to enter but the blond did not. Trying desperately not to notice the overt attention, Obi-Wan lead Bali through the corridor. 

Jira followed.

The thought of having to face the Chancellor's assistant gave the young master a headache.

"Master Jedi!" Jira called out much too loudly.

Obi-Wan winced and reluctantly stopped, allowing the annoying blond to catch up. Slowly he turned to face her all the while drawing on the Force hoping to repel her annoying advances. "Yes, Miss Thelo?"

The assistant slowed briefly looking concerned then carefully approached the Jedi master with a slow, exaggerated shift of her hips. Batting her long eyelashes, Jira breathed, "I have been so hoping to run into you."

"Is there something you need?" Obi-Wan asked sternly as he folded his arms tight across his chest creating an imposing presence that did absolutely nothing to dissuade Jira.

"I heard all about the attack on the Chancellor," she whispered, drawing very close to the Jedi.

Obi-Wan took a step back.

"Must have been terrible being laid up after that awful monster injured you." Her tongue drew slowly across her brightly painted lips. "I bet Jedi medics have a horrible bedside manner. I would have taken care of you." 

"Miss Thelo–"

"I tried to send flowers," she purred, ignoring Obi-Wan's attempted protest as she drew a little closer and forced the master back another step. The blond offered up a playful pout. "That Temple of yours is not very friendly. I wanted to send a get well and offer a little tender loving care."

"Miss Thelo," Obi-Wan growled, "unless you have something of importance–"

Jira laughed as her bright orange painted fingers glided over Obi-Wan's folded arms and reached for the layers of his cloak and tunic protected chest. "I tried to get a message to you but some million-year-old operator wouldn't let me through." 

Obi-Wan frowned as he shifted out of her reach again. He would have to find Madame Lor'el and thank her for her annoying persistence at Temple Communications. 

"I bet you have sore muscles," Jira purred as she drew close again. 

It would be improper to use another Force compulsion against heragain, but oh did he want to send her away.

"After a hard day protecting the Republic I bet you need to work that tenseness out. I could massage–"

"Mine!" A pale blue hand reached over Obi-Wan's shoulder and violently lashed out at the troublesome blond.

To Jira's credit, quick reflexes saved her from being clawed.

Adjani'esan wrapped her arms around Obi-Wan, burrowing long fingers through the folds of his cloak and tunic seeking the warm flesh beneath. The Jedi knight protectively rested her chin against Obi-Wan's broad shoulder as she let out a soft, warning hiss. She moved to tangle a long leg around the other Jedi's as she gave a menacing growl. "I don't like other girls playing with my toys!" Almost playfully she took another swipe at Jira sending the assistant skittering backward another few steps.

Shock clouded Bali as he just stood there, completely stunned by the scene unfolding before him.

Obi-Wan did little to deter the Twi'lek. He reached up and lightly brushed a finger across the pale blue cheek inciting a soft coo from the lovely knight.

Cold anger bubbled just below Jira's surface, not being Jedi she could not control the pure rage that reflected in her eyes. Pale hands tightened into fists as the jealousy coiled around her green pantsuit. Disgust tainted her usually chipper tone. "She's nothing but a Twi'lek whore!"

Adjani lunged forward with deadly intent but Obi-Wan's strong arms kept her just out of lashing range. Long fingernails scraped at the air as she struggled to rend the flesh from Jira's painted face. "Bite your tongue or I will bite it for you, synthetic fraud!"

Horror gripped Jira's features as she withdrew slightly.

"What did you do? Run out of club patrons and sugar daddies to impress so you had to come up out of Coruscant's depths, you callow beast!"

Obi-Wan brought up a warm hand and pressed to the back of Adjani's neck causing the knight to relax slightly. Cooing, she tightened her hold around him. Offering Jira a wicked grin she turned and lightly nipped at Obi-Wan's earlobe. 

"I didn't know," Jira stuttered. "A Twi'lek!"

"I am a Jedi," Adjani hissed, "why would he waste his time with anything less?"

Jira sobbed before she finally twisted around and fled the corridor.

"That was excessively cruel," Obi-Wan said softly after Jira had disappeared.

"What a whiney beast!" Adjani huffed but did not relinquish her hold on the master. "Well at least she showed her true colors. I should toss her off the nearest balcony for calling me a whore. The nerve!"

Bali just stood there, shoulders slumped as he stared helplessly at the two entwined Jedi. 

"Watch your tongue in front of my padawan," Obi-Wan growled. He could feel the boy's shock and distress. Just beyond that he thought he felt a touch of jealousy. 

Adjani pulled back slightly and stared at the side of his face. "Must be nice to have someone so protective over you," she wondered out loud. Even with Jira gone, Adjani still had not let go of the show and leaned close, nipping at Obi-Wan's earlobe again.

In a flash, she was ripped free of the master and shoved against the wall. Obi-Wan's fingers tightened around the blue neck. "Game's over."

"You are still no fun," Adjani purred. She shifted herself free and straightened, "and it is not for a lack of trying." She broke into a wide grin. "You looked like you were in trouble," the beautiful Twi'lek said with bravura. "Thought I would assist." Her gaze shifted and settled on the still stunned Bali. "Padawan Tiro! I knew we would meet again."

At the attention, Bali turned bright red and giggled.

"I did not know this handsome young man was yours," Adjani said.

"I take it you two have met?" Obi-Wan asked dully as he pulled at his cloak.

Bali giggled helplessly as he turned big, green eyes up at the pale blue Twi'lek knight.

Obi-Wan could feel the boy's giddy embarrassment riding almost uncontrollably through their bond.

Taking a few steps forward and in one fluid motion Adjani planted a big kiss on Bali's cheek. The boy giggled and would have toppled over if not for Obi-Wan's quick save.

"Please try not to kill my padawan," Obi-Wan begged softly as he propped Bali back up.

The boy just sighed. "I'm fine, Master," he mumbled before falling up against Obi-Wan for support. "She is so pretty," the boy whispered in a love drunken stupor.

"Yes, she is, Padawan," Obi-Wan said softly as he knelt down next to the boy. "She is also a warrior and respected Jedi. Keep that in mind."

"Yes, Master," Bali mumbled dreamily.

"Hmm," Adjani whispered as she knelt close to Obi-Wan's ear. "If I kissed you on the cheek, would you fall over like your handsome padawan?"

"Not likely."

Adjani looked to Bali. "So what do you think? Should I?"

Bali nodded.

"Don't even think about it," Obi-Wan growled as he straightened. 

"I'm back at the Temple for a few days and the first thing I do is run into a very handsome young man." She turned to Obi-Wan in mock defensiveness. "Why did you never get all giggly goofy around me at that age?"

"Because you were a stick when I was thirteen."

"Oh, I guess you are right." Adjani smiled warmly at the master. "Not all girls can by pretty facades like thatwhatever she was."

"The Chancellor's assistant, Jira Thelo." Obi-Wan looked at her curiously. "Façade?"

Adjani smiled. "I forgot, you are a man and can't see beyond the surface. I doubt a nerf herder would find that attractive under that glam job. She probably took daddy's money and bought her pretty looks. Any cultural hub in the galaxy has clubs full of girls like her. They look all pretty and rush some rich lush into marriage. By the time the poor sucker figures it out it is too late and she has run off with his fortune to support that pretty synthetic face." She laughed. "This one must be stupid if she is going for a Jedi, especially you."

The Jedi master frowned. "That was still cruel."

"Next time I will just leave you to her advances." She caught the hint of red color Obi-Wan's cheeks. A quick glance to Bali's red face. "You two are just alike. Oh well, at least this gives me a chance to complete a small mission."

"Mission?" Obi-Wan asked suspiciously as he found his composure.

"Ran into Garen at Selis Prime." Adjani grinned wickedly. "Gave me a message to deliver to you. Unless–and these are his words–you are being your grumpy old self as usual then I should just avoid you and give it Bant so she can pass it along. I am so glad I found you though."

"Why do I have a bad feeling about this?"

Adjani reached out and wrapped long fingers around the folds of Obi-Wan's tunic and yanked him forward. She landed a kiss full on the lips. Obi-Wan tried to pull away but Adjani'esan held on tight. 

Bali almost fell over out of shock.

Obi-Wan struggled before he broke free of her hold and held her out at arm length. 

"From Garen. He thinks you have become to stuffy trying to set a good example for the little one." The beautiful knight whispered, "You know it would have been much more fun if you kissed back."

"For who?" an exasperated Obi-Wan asked.

Adjani looked passed his shoulder at the still surprised Bali. "Is he always this much fun?"

Bali nodded.

"Garen was right, you are a real grouch." Adjani looked to Bali again. "Is this just a morning thing?"

"No," Bali answered quickly. His cheeks remained bright red. "He's like that all the time." Then he let loose with another nervous giggle.

Delicate blue fingers brushed through Obi-Wan's neatly groomed beard. "When did this happen?" 

"About eight years ago," Obi-Wan replied dryly.

Adjani's wandering fingers reached behind his right ear and tugged at the ginger hair. "I miss the braid," she playfully pouted.

"It's been ten years since last we saw each other and nine years since Master Yoda cut the braid."

"So I don't get back to the Temple often. I barely got a breather before they put me back to work." Her voice dropped as she leaned into Obi-Wan to whisper in his ear, "To guard senators of all things!"

* * *

Jira leaned heavily against a wall as tears continued to trail down her cheeks. She bit back a sob, fighting the anger that had so easily boiled up in her. That Twi'lek whore had exposed her for the fraud she really was. 

She had thought to hide herself by being someone different. Not to be reminded of what she truly was. Trembling hands quickly wiped away the tears, smearing her make-up in the process. 

The anger remained at being embarrassed in front of the Jedi and his cute little padawan. All she wanted was for those lovely eyes to look at her with affection. Was that asking for so much? Jira wept as the feeling of complete helplessness filled her knowing that she could not repair the damage that blue skinned devil had done. What could Master Kenobi possibly see in that Twi'lek? He could not care for her–love her. 

Could he?

__________________

Book of Master and Padawan Part IX

__

A downcast ten-year-old wandered toward the massive interstellar transport hub. His feet scraped at the duracrete as he wandered into a river of beings from all over the galaxy that flowed into the station. Bright green eyes sought out the thousands of life forms swarming all around. So many emotions all at once that it short-circuited Bali's connection to the Force as it was just too much for him to process. His brain felt muddled as so much swirled around him. It was so different from the Temple. 

He tightened his grip on the small pack he had slung over his shoulder. The contents were items he thought he would need. The few true belongings of his, he left back in his room with a simple note to his master. He had wanted the note to be something more but in the end, it was just scribbled apologies. Tears welled in the bright green depths of his eyes and he quickly wiped them away. 

If only he was smarter, he would not have to leave the Temple. 

If only.

Sadly, he walked toward the great hub. Beings of every size, shape and color shoved their way around him. A large green alien that Bali had never seen before slammed into him, knocking the boy to the ground. The creature never slowed in its journey leaving Bali to struggle to get out from underfoot of mass of aliens moving to and from the station. He barely got to his feet when a red and yellow creature shoved him out of the way. He slammed into the duracrete with a thud and a whimper. Boots slammed into him as beings stumbled over him. His little pack had been kicked out of his reach and he crawled over the rough ground toward it only to have the pack kicked away again.

The knees of his tan trousers had turned dark from crawling about the ground and his cloak kept getting stepped on, slowing his crawl toward his pack. Tears suddenly sprang to his eyes when a large foot came down in the middle of his small hand. Dampening the pain, Bali pushed his way through the world of legs and found his trampled pack. Desperately he clung to it for all that remained of his world was in it. He scurried through the masses until he found a wall he could rest against just out of the way of danger. Weeping softly, he stared down at his puffy fingers before sinking to the cold ground.

Deep in his mind he could feel the light tug of the bond with his master. Quickly he moved to block it, not wishing to feel his master's disappointment. 

Bali looked up into the crowd. There were so many beings and he was just so small. He caught sight of a Rodian family walking through the crowd. The parents struggled to protect their two younglings from the bustling crowd. He wondered if his biological parents would do that when he found his family. They would want their little boy back and then he could be a normal child. He could have a family that loved him and wished him the best and he would not have any more tests to take and fail. 

He had studied and worked so hard to pass the ten year trials and failed so miserably. A little sniffle escaped him as he struggled against the tears again. He did not understand the questions on the written part of the test and got all confused when the masters tested his skills. He was not going to be made a knight. Was not smart enough. His master had tried so hard to help him and it did not matter, he still failed. Not only his test, but also his master. 

Bali did not want to be there when his friends went on to the next level and as usual, he was left behind. He did not think he could do that again. It was best that he should leave while he had the chance. No more humiliation. Just disappear when no one was looking. His master was in a meeting and it was best, Bali had decided. No one to chase after him. 

Wiping the tears away, Bali looked into his pack. It was stuffed full with a change of clothing, a small holocube with pictures of his master and friends to remember and a portable data pad the size of his hand. He pulled the data pad out and brought up his research file. It was a simple display of his vital statistics. His birthday and medical records. Every vaccination and cold he had ever had was listed. He opened another screen revealing his parentage. A frown graced his small features. Most of the information was restricted. All it told him was his mother was Corellian. That was a start, Bali decided. He would go to Corellia and find his family. 

Stuffing his meager belongings back in his pack, Bali got up and entered the interplanetary transport station. The domed ceiling was so high Bali thought it touched the sky. He ran over to a departure board and scanned it for transports to Corellia. 

So many beings overwhelmed his senses and he never noticed the figure quietly approaching from behind. He was yanked off his feet as something grabbed his pack and ripped it free of his shoulder. Bali screamed just before slamming into the floor. He twisted around to see a dark dressed figure shoving his way through the crowd with his pack. 

Immediately the padawan was on his feet chasing after the thief. He saw the figure round a corner and instead of directly pursuing, Bali took a different route. The Force guided him down another corridor and through a set of doors before he skidded to a stop in the middle of a busy intersection. Out of the crowd, the black clad figure appeared, racing toward him. Bali leapt but missed, catching only a foot. The older boy crashed to the floor and twisted about, with his free foot, he kicked Bali in the face. The little Jedi cried out but he did not let go. All he wanted was to recover his stolen pack.

"Let go!" the thief yelped. 

Using the Force, Bali pried the pack from the other's hand and sent it sliding across the tile floor. Both boys scrambled for it. Just as Bali reached for the pack, a much larger gray hand snatched it up off the floor.

"Mine!" Bali screamed, jumping to his feet and leaping for the little pack.

"It belongs to me now," a deep voice snarled from beneath a deep purple cowl.

Ignoring the menacing voice, Bali leapt for his pack but it was held just out of his reach. The purple cloaked figure used his free hand to smash Bali into the chest. The boy crumpled to the floor wheezing as the figure handed the pack off to the thief. He watched helplessly as his few belongings disappeared into the crowd.

"Better luck next time, brat," the deep voice boomed and then he too vanished into the crowd.

Not knowing what else to do, Bali curled up on the cold floor and began to sob. He cried for what seemed like a lifetime until he became dully aware of a commotion. Sitting up slowly to keep his chest from aching too much, Bali saw the crowd shift and clear a path. He could feel fear, outrage, and awe mingling in the thousands of emotions. Through tear blurred vision he saw the thief that had run off with his pack racing toward him again. The little boy braced himself for another attack but the thief just kept running as if his life depended upon it.

The crowd of beings shifted again revealing a lone Jedi with a ridiculously small shoulder pack searching the throng of beings.

"Master!" Bali cried out in total relief, stumbling to his feet and running toward the cloaked figure. Protective arms encircled him and he was never so happy than at that moment. 

Obi-Wan held onto the shivering, frightened child. "Padawan," he crooned softly in the boy's ear. "Why did you run away?"

The dark haired boy sobbed but refused to let go of his master's neck. "You came looking for me," he cried into Obi-Wan's shoulder.

"Of course, Padawan." The Jedi peeled the boy back and stared at the bruise, tear stained face. "Why?"

Bali sank weakly to the floor he could see the worry and concern in his master's pale blue gaze. "I failed, Master." Small bruised fingers twisted nervously in his lap as he reluctantly released the stranglehold on the training bond. He was suddenly filled with his master's residing panic and was angry with himself for upsetting his master. "I failed the trials," Bali said softly, lower his head. 

"Is that all?" Obi-Wan asked plainly, not appearing upset at all by the revelation as he searched the roughened up padawan. "This adventure is because you failed a test?"

"I can't be a Jedi," Bali whimpered, ignoring the warmth and comfort offered through his training bond. "I can't pass a simple test. I am not smart enough. I got confused. But I tried, Master, I tried."

"I know you did."

Bali shook his head in frustration. "I want to go somewhere else. Find my blood family. I won't have to take anymore tests then. I didn't mean to fail."

"I hate to tell you, Padawan, but life–Jedi or not–is full of tests and trials. You cannot hide from them." Obi-Wan carefully straightened the rumpled, dingy tunic Bali wore. "And you didn't fail, you just didn't pass."

The apprentice just shook his head sadly.

Obi-Wan tipped Bali's chin up showing an angry bruise forming just below his right eye. "In the end it isn't how you pass a test, it is about how you respond in real life situations."

A small nod from a bruised face. "Yes, Master." He could feel Obi-Wan's unspoken question of why he blocked the bond. "I was afraid of disappointing you."

"That will never happen, Padawan."

Bali knew without question, his master spoke the truth. Slowly, he brought up his tear-rimmed gaze. "Am I in trouble?"

"For leaving the Temple without permission? Yes."

"Oh." A childish grin appeared. "You are so happy to see me that you could forget about punishment."

"I could." Obi-Wan stood up and adjusted his cloak. "But I need to give you a reason not to do this again."

The boy frowned not able to promise it would not happen again.

Obi-Wan reached down and pulled the apprentice to his feet. He then slipped the little pack back onto Bali's shoulder. "There will be extra lessons to make up for your little excursion."

"Yes, Master."

"Unfortunately there are no lessons to teach you to have more faith in yourself. You are just going to have to believe that as long as you strive toward the light what you do is good enough."

Bali nodded, not really understanding.

A warm smile was offered as Obi-Wan placed a comforting hand to the boy's shoulder. "I have faith you will always do your best and that is all that matters."

______________________

__

Holonet Broadcasting Company

"reports are coming in of armed skirmishes on the newly formed border with the League of Secessionists.

"On a related note, word is the League of Secessionists have placed a bounty on all members of the Jedi Order found within their systems"

______________________

__

The Book of Hard Truths

Obi-Wan shivered and tugged futilely at has cloak. The bright cool Coruscant afternoon bit deep into his bones as he walked toward the landing platform. Small footsteps followed as Bali held his proper place at his master's side and stopped when his master stopped. Bright green eyes studied the older Jedi before turning his gaze to the bustling metropolis. 

For a time, the two Jedi stood in complete silence, watching the city planet. Then softly, almost unheard over the hum of the planet, Bali spoke up. "Master?"

"Yes, Padawan."

"Do you think Miss Thelo will be back?"

Obi-Wan turned to look down at Bali's questioning face. "I do not know. Adjani'esan was quite sharp with her."

Bali giggled at the mention of the beautiful knight's name but then sobered. "I don't like Miss Thelo."

"I am not fond of her myself, but we must endeavor to put up with her as long as she remains in the Chancellor's employ." While silently he hoped never to have to face her again. 

"Yes, Master." Bali straightened the moment an ambassadorial cruiser broke from the traffic lines and approached the landing platform. 

"We are meeting Senator Bail Organa, a member of the Alderaan royal family," Obi-Wan said plainly. "You will address him as Senator though, as it is the profession he has chosen."

"Yes, Master," Bali dutifully replied.

"He is a true Republican standing on numerous committees including the one dealing with the League of Secessionists. This alone has put his life in grave danger. Any information he possesses now makes him a target of the Sith assassin so maintain your guard."

"Yes, Master."

Obi-Wan glanced to the patiently waiting boy. Beyond the cherubic innocence of his age, the master could see determination in the bright green eyes. Bali would be ready for anything.

A large shadow swept over the landing pad as the cruiser descended to the platform. In the wait, Obi-Wan folded himself deeper into his cloak just before the ramp lowered from the silver ship's belly. A tall assistant in plain gray but exquisitely tailored suit marched down the ramp and waited patiently on the platform. The dark haired man glanced around at the greeting party of two and frowned before making a note on a data pad.

Ignoring the distain filled look of the assistant, Obi-Wan lead Bali to the foot of the ramp.

After an extraordinarily long wait, Senator Bail Organa appeared with several members of his security force. A quick glance about the empty platform before setting his gaze on the two Jedi. Steeling his handsome features, the Senator marched down the ramp. "I had expected the Chancellor to be waiting," he said doing little to hide his surprise. 

The two Jedi bowed formally before Obi-Wan responded. "There are a great many entanglements within the Senate, sir," he paused, gaging Organa's response. "The Chancellor has been quite unavailable as of late."

"So it seems." The mildly irritated Senator studied the two Jedi. "For the same reasons, I suspect, Senator Amidala is also detained?"

"I possess no knowledge of that," Obi-Wan replied.

Organa twisted about staring at the sparsely populated platform. A stiff breeze ruffled his dark hair as he turned his attention on the quietly waiting apprentice. Sharp eyes met Obi-Wan's. "What have I done to deserve being met by two Jedi?"

"At the Chancellor's request we are ordered to provide extra security."

"While I thank the Chancellor for his concern, my forces are plenty."

"With all do respect, Senator," Obi-Wan said firmly, "It is believed that you are a target for assassination."

"I am a Senator, I expect to be as part of my job. This is hardly news."

Organa was no different than any other diplomat with a death mark, Obi-Wan knew. He had the challenge of protecting many from potential assassins and he had long since learned that often one could not argue with them. Only present the facts and hope that would be enough to cow a recalcitrant politician. "In your recent absence, Senator Amidala was the most recent target of an assassination attempt."

There was a long silence before the tall senator asked, "Is she all right?"

"Shaken up, but relatively undamaged." Obi-Wan walked along side Organa toward the Senatorial Towers. "Days prior to that Senator Irisi of Tamboa was assassinated. It is believed that both Amidala and Irisi were targeted by the same person or group." The Jedi sensed the senator's internal struggle not to show evidence of the concern plaguing him. 

Organa turned sharply and spoke evenly. "It is all the more important then, that I immediately meet with Senator Amidala and the Chancellor."

_________________________

__

The Book of Wrong Responses

"What?" Padmé asked as she twisted around in the elegant green dress she wore. She had chosen the gown for its subtle lines yet undemanding appearance. It would not overshadow the meeting with Bail Organa. Yet implied she was ready to take charge of any situation that arose. Slowly her attention turned back to the Jedi apprentice that stood in front of her.

Anakin shifted nervously as he repeated his statement. "I said you look beautiful."

"I was going for authoritative," Padmé replied dully as she wondered how long he had been watching her. "Did you suddenly give up the Jedi to be a fashion critic? Coruscant is full of them."

"It is full of Jedi as well. There is competition everywhere." He smiled warmly at the young senator as he slowly approached. "It would take a fool not to see how beautiful you are no matter how you dressed."

Padmé blushed as she quickly glanced away. "You are embarrassing me."

"I am sorry," Anakin said, but the wolfish grin did not leave his face. He whispered, "I love you."

The senator stopped and warily studied the young man. She obviously had misheard him. "Excuse me?"

Anakin glanced away proving her suspicions. "I love you."

She giggled nervously. They had just met days ago. How could he know he loved her? He was a Jedi and a boy. "What do you know of love?"

Shock graced Anakin's features as he turned to fully stare at her with wounded eyes.

Immediately Padmé regretted her words. "You just took me by surprise," she said diplomatically retreating from her harsh statement.

"Why should that surprise you?" Anakin asked after quickly masking his emotions behind a stoic Jedi mask.

The intense scrutiny of his gaze bothered her and she withdrew a few steps. "You are much too young for me."

"Just five years."

"You are too young to know love."

"I am not a child." Anakin took a slow step toward Padmé as she nervously withdrew. He stopped in shock when she quickly marched through the apartment toward the private section. 

"You are just a child." The fluster from her expression quickly reached her voice. 

"That was nine years ago," Anakin said as he made an exaggerated gesture of looking down his front. "I think I have grown a little since then."

"But emotionally–"

"I love you," Anakin replied quickly. 

"You can't. It's just an infatuation," Padmé replied. That was all it was, right? She was just thinking how handsome he was. She was not thinking about anything else, especially not a relationship. He is Jedi or at least training to be one. She has her duty to her people. It was a silly mistake letting her guard down like she did. "Just an infatuation."

Anakin looked completely stunned as he stood there.

"We have our duty–"

"No," Anakin said quickly. 

"I have a duty to my people, you to the Republic. We cannot just turn our backs–"

"But you feel the same," he said.

It was Padmé's turn to struggle with her anger. He had read her, used his powers to know what was going on in her mind. "I cannot."

"You do."

"Stay out of my head," she demanded.

"I don't have to violate you like that," Anakin said evenly betraying little of the rage of emotions flowing behind his bright blue eyes. "I can see it in how you look at me. Hear it when you speak to me. Do you think so little of me that I would intentionally hurt you?"

Padmé could not respond for she did not know how too.

Anger colored Anakin's cheeks as he turned and stormed from the room just as Qui-Gon was entering. The elder master looked after the boy with an air of confusion. "Padawan?" He received no answer. Slowly his attention fell to the pink-faced Senator.

"It's just an infatuation," she replied. 

___________________________

__

The Book of Razing

In the depths of the Senatorial Office Towers, Kinyo deactivated the force field around his office door and stepped out into the empty corridor. It had been a long day dealing with panicked senator's who believed every little noise and odd look was a prelude to assassination. The more he felt like a glorified baby-sitter the more he thought he should cut his losses, pull his ship out of dock and go back into business for himself. This steady paycheck thing was not all it was cut out to be. 

All he had left to do was put a couple feelers out to see if he could satisfy Kenobi's inquiry. Although the captain surmised that he would not find any information. After the senate had shut down the research facility, the Xim reclaimed their stolen land. There was nothing left for Trocha there. 

It was a foolish quest of the Jedi. 

He turned and stood frozen in the corridor.

A black shrouded figure stood silently before him. 

It had not been there when he stepped out. Tilting his head slightly, the silver tattoos reflected light against the dark material of the figure's cloak. "This is a restricted area," Kinyo said evenly as his hand casually shifted to the blaster at his side. 

A mechanical hiss emanated from the expressionless black mask. "I am often capable of mercy."

Before Kinyo could even process the remark, a flash of red severed his head from his body. 

________________________

__

The Book of News Stories

"This is all madness!" The excitable Mejur delegate said as his four arms flailed helplessly about showing his apparent frustration. Small legs slowed as the short alien twisted about to stare at the reporter and camera droid from the Holonet Broadcasting Company.

A tall human named Lyka Uan glanced at her notes on a handheld data reader as the small yellow disc shaped droid buzzed about. Lyka led the Senator in questioning, "The HBC has come across word that you are planning to put a bill before the Senate banning all trade with the League of Secessionists."

Large black eyes blinked wildly at the reporter before Kulu answered. "It is all we can do. If we want peacefully end this conflict we must do it through an embargo."

"There is talk of war resolutions."

"Of course there are!" Kulu said. "Every little disagreement in the Senate ends in talk of war, always has. We will get through this peacefully and with minimal bloodshed," he replied defiantly.

Lyka opened her mouth to ask the Mejur senator another question but stopped at the sight of Bail Organa and his entourage marching swiftly through the corridor. "Senator Organa!" she called out, chasing toward the senator. "Kulu Eyo Tapir of the Mejur delegation believes that the Republic can be made whole again through peaceful means."

"I have no comment," Organa said quickly dismissing her with a wave of his hand as he and the Jedi along with his own people swept past.

Kulu huffed indignantly before shoving his way between the hovering camera droid and the sight of the retreating senator from Alderaan. "If this becomes an all out war it will be the fault of Senator Organa and others," the Mejur sputtered. "They depend too heavily on the Jedi for counsel. I wouldn't be surprised if they Jedi weren't advising them to war."

"Do you believe the Jedi are dangerous?" Lyka asked carefully.

"Why would the League of Secessionists violently expel them if they were not?" Kulu shot back, bitterness lacing his voice. He turned back to his journey only to have to jump backwards to avoid running headlong into a very upset Anakin Skywalker. 

Bright blue eyes never even considered the senator as Anakin brushed violently passed. 

"They will do it just for revenge," Kulu growled as his round, black eyes watched the young man coldly. 

The small camera droid swept around and followed Anakin's track. Suddenly a soft snapping sound filled the corridor as a puff of smoke billowed from the droid. A disconcerted whirring emanated from the small form just before it dived into the floor smashing into pieces. 

While still maintaining his place close to Senator Organa, Obi-Wan twisted, glancing back at the destroyed droid.

"See what that young Jedi did!" Kulu sputtered as his four flailing arms flagrantly dismissed the young Jedi. "They don't even like their images recorded," he hissed as he picked up the broken camera droid. Small parts fell to the floor as the Mejur handed it over to the stunned reporter. "I suppose we will have to do the interview over?"


	16. 

__

The Book of Teachers

"You made it back safely," Padmé said with the warmth of greeting an old friend as she reached out to Bail Organa.

The delegate from Alderaan returned the greeting then made note of his Jedi protection. "It seems I have missed much in my absence."

Padmé eyed the two Jedi that had saved her from the Sith's attack. She nodded a silent thank you.

Bali blushed slightly before he followed his master a discreet distance from the two senators. He watched curiously as Padmé guided Organa to her private office so they could continue the conversation. Quickly loosing his attention with the senators, Bali sought out his master who stared dully out the expansive window. Through their bond, he could feel a tenseness that developed the moment the senator had insisted on visiting with Amidala. Choosing not to investigate it further, he focused on the powerful sense of sadness. It was oddly masked and he had to strain slightly to pinpoint it. Curiosity filled the boy's features when he realized the feeling came from Senator Amidala. He had felt that feeling before but had only seen it in those who were sobbing. Amidala remained in control of her outward features, even venturing a giggle at something Senator Organa had said. 

It was wrong to ease drop, or at least that was what Master had told him numerous times, so Bali turned his attention back to his tense master. 

"It is all right, Padawan," Obi-Wan replied without looking over to the boy.

Relief briefly fluttered over his bright green eyes as he quickly moved to his master's side.

As gentle as always, Obi-Wan reached out and pressed a firm hand to Bali's shoulder eliciting a small smile from the padawan. Bali was completely taken in by the comfort provided in the hand against his shoulder. Sometimes it said more than a brush with his master's mind. 

His thoughts drifted to the upset Mejur in the corridor and the things he had heard said to the reporter. Turning a worried gaze to the older Jedi, Bali asked, "I don't understand, why do they hate us?"

"Fear in what they do not understand," Obi-Wan answered softly. "There is always a tendency to try to harness what you cannot understand."

"What will happen to us?"

"We will maintain. Bend when we have to, adjust to change, but the Jedi have always been and we will always be even in difficult times. It is the nature of the universe. Cycles of difficulty and acceptance."

"Yes, Master," Bali replied obediently even if he was a little worried about the future.

* * *

Anakin had stormed off so quickly that the elder master had lost him in the labyrinth of the corridors. Qui-Gon slowly returned to the Naboo senator's apartment. Through the Force, he felt the familiar signature of his former apprentice and the little padawan he had made friends with days earlier in the healing center.

Without hesitation, Qui-Gon marched into the common room; his gaze immediately found Padmé and Bail Organa sitting in the office. He sensed a great sadness from the young senator.

Then his gaze found the two Jedi at the large window. The little padawan turned to greet him with a small smile but did not move from his master's side. In the glass, against the late afternoon sun, Qui-Gon studied Obi-Wan's reflection. In the golden light, he caught sight of two pale blue eyes. They shifted to stare dully towards the senate building. 

Bali turned back to the window and Qui-Gon sensed the easy flow of silent communication between master and padawan. Tiredly Obi-Wan reached out and ruffled the boy's short brown spikes. The padawan giggled as he fixed his hair.

"I see you have been called to action as well," the elder master said softly as he approached the window.

Obi-Wan turned sharply; the cold blue of his gaze almost sent Qui-Gon back a step. "Your padawan just had a very public temper tantrum," the younger master said plainly, allowing no emotional inflection in his tone.

"I seriously–"

Placing a distance between himself and his padawan, Obi-Wan swiftly moved closer to Qui-Gon. He spoke in a low tone, "Times are tense enough without him putting a show on for a HBC reporter and a camera droid. Although," there was a pause, "he most likely destroyed the droid's recording device."

"I would be careful with your insinuations," Qui-Gon warned. He would not stand there and have Anakin run down.

"We saw him do it. He almost knocked a senator over," Bali said softly, joining in on the conversation.

Qui-Gon was quiet, not venturing to argue with the eyewitnesses. Knowing the little boy would only speak the truth. "I am sure there is a legitimate reason for this behavior," he said a little more calmly, "you probably misread what you saw."

"Senator Kulu did not," Obi-Wan replied. "Reign him in or he will be the death of us all."

"You put too much faith in him," Qui-Gon returned.

"And you don't?"

Qui-Gon took in a deep breath as he folded his arms across his chest. His intense gaze studied the younger man. "You have always disliked Anakin."

"What I saw had little to do with my personal opinion."

A sharp remark leapt to Qui-Gon's lips but was quickly stifled at the curiously concerned look from Bali. He stared at the little padawan for a time. His arms were folded into the sleeves of his cloak in a silent mimic of his master. He looked like a proper Jedi padawan with his flame tipped padawan braid brushing over his shoulder. So different from the disoriented, worried child he had found in the healing center. He could see in the boy's bright green eyes the adoration he had of his master. It brought back to Qui-Gon the ever-growing distance between he and Anakin. 

"Come, Padawan," Obi-Wan said softly, a gentle hand to the boy's shoulder guided him back to the window.

Bali looked over his shoulder at Qui-Gon, but obediently kept his place at his master's side. For a while, the small padawan stared out the window watching traffic before turning to look at Obi-Wan. "Master?"

"Yes, Padawan?"

Again, Qui-Gon was brought to pause at the gentle manner the young master spoke. 

"Why did you walk away?" Bali asked softly.

"It would serve no purpose to continue that conversation."

Bali just looked at him not understanding, then turned and stared at Qui-Gon again.

"Look into that office," Obi-Wan said calmly motioning toward where Padmé and Senator Organa were still visiting. "Their lives are in danger. Their worlds are on the brink of war with the Secessionists." From habit or illness, Obi-Wan shrugged into the folds of his cloak. The last thing they need is to be witness to an argument in the common room. And that is where this conversation was quickly descending too."

"Yes, Master," Bali replied still looking confused.

Qui-Gon was left standing in the center of the room staring at the backs of the two Jedi.

_______________________

__

Holonet Broadcasting Company

"sketchy reports are coming out of he League of Secessionists camp. Chairman Regnosz of the Aveniar Imperium was assassinated during secret peace negotiations with Republic mediators. Initial medical examiner's reports say Regnosz died from the removal of his primary pulmonary organ. The assassins are being held pending sentencing."

"In another story, Lyka Uan, interviewed Senator Kulu Eyo Tapir of the Mejur delegation. Holo at eleven."

__________________________

Book of Flesh and Bone Part VIII

__

"Quite beautiful, don't you think?" Ighista Trocha asked as he stepped silently out onto the moonlit balcony of the main house. His gaze swept across the Xim countryside lit by the two moons. 

Obi-Wan paused from his notes to study the blue glow that danced over the trees below. He stared up into the larger of the two moons. The pale yellow surface was stark against the black sky, but it did nothing to diminish the brilliance of the smaller moon. "Yes."

"I am not speaking of the moons," Trocha replied evenly, never offering the knight a glance.

Exhaling slowly, Obi-Wan returned to his work. The silence was long and drawn out before it became too much to bear. "Master Trocha, I–"

The former healer waved his hand dismissively. "No explanations needed. Halla told me all."

Obi-Wan stared curiously as the former Jedi healer. He did not like the brief flutter of threat that emanated from the other man.

"Oh, I understand padawan flings, they are as common a braids in the Temple, not that the masters would pretend such biological urges take place. There is little of my wife's history that surprises me." He paused to carefully look the knight over. "I also know that she was cast out of the Order."

"She did not return to the Temple for a formal inquiry." Obi-Wan replied carefully. 

"She would have been dismissed. It would not change the blood on her hands. She cannot bring her master or the passengers of that ship back to life. She suffers enough and needs no more punishment." 

"Of course, Master–"

"My wife," Trocha stressed then remained silent for a time as if considering how to phrase his next statement. "Your presence is disrupting her life."

"She has nothing to fear if she thinks I will force her to return to the Temple."

Trocha's dark eyes glinted in the moonlight with an unspoken mirth. "You could not if you wanted to, young Jedi." He started to withdraw into the warm glow of the house. "Find Qin Luc, we cannot afford to lose her expertise, then be gone from my home. My social graces are wearing thin." He paused. 

Under the older man's dark gaze, Obi-Wan felt mildly uncomfortable. 

"You will avoid my wife until then." It was not spoken as a request.

"Yes, Master," Obi-Wan bowed stiffly in acquiescence.

_________________

__

The Book of the Rock

"No, Padawan," Obi-Wan said softly, stopping the boy from obediently following him out of the Naboo suite and into the corridor. "Remain. I am just stepping out for a short patrol."

"Yes, Master," Bali dutifully nodded but wished his master would not leave. He waited patiently until his master had retreated from the apartment before he moved back into the common room. Slowly he turned his attention to the office where Padmé and Senator Organa continued their conversation; seemingly oblivious to the tense words exchanged in the common room. Somehow, Bali wondered if his master had something to do with that. He started back toward the window where he had been standing but found Qui-Gon had taken up position there. 

The apprentice carefully stifled a frown and walked quietly around the room. He cast out for anything unusual but everything seemed fine. He noted that the two senator's spoke in a very soft, very tense conversation. Withdrawing a little he turned his focus back to his immediate surroundings. In one of the private rooms of the apartment he noted another presence but decided it was benign. 

His feelings were confirmed when Sirceé appeared in the doorway. She smiled gently and then disappeared again.

Again, the little boy tried to look calm, wishing only to ease his nervousnesses. He breathed out and slowly inhaled focusing on anything but the tall master standing by the window. The master had been quite kind before but Bali had definitely sensed hurt through his bond with his own master. It was not the first time he had felt that in the presence of the two masters. He wished he understood. After a short time he gave up on trying to figure out the impossible and sought the training bond.

The immediate response was a gentle, reassuring pulse followed by an instruction to be mindful of his surroundings.

Slowly, the boy looked over a Qui-Gon.

When the Jedi master turned, Bali quickly looked away.

"So Bali Tiro, what do you think of the Senate Towers?" Qui-Gon asked gently.

"I have often been here. I have been on many missions with my master," Bali replied formally with the slightest touch of pride in his voice.

"You are quite young to have been on many missions," the tall master chuckled.

"I am thirteen," Bali said quickly as he fished through the folds of his cloak and found the concealed river stone his master had given him. He held the scared stone up in the light. The red veins sparkled. "Master gave this to me for my birthday. He said it was his when he was a padawan."

Qui-Gon just stared at the stone nestled in the center of Bali's hand.

"It's not just a rock," the apprentice continued feeling it necessary to defend the stone he held so reverently. "Everyone thinks it is. But look." He sent a pulse toward the stone and the red veins glowed warmly. "It's Force sensitive." He twisted it around in his palm as a curious expression studied the scarred surface. "I think it was broken though."

The Jedi master walked over to the young padawan.

Big green eyes looked up at Qui-Gon but Bali did not retreat. Instead, he held the stone out a little farther so the master could better examine it.

"Yes," Qui-Gon said softly. "It was broken, but through the Force it was made whole again. It gives us hope that even the deepest wounds can heal."

* * *

Obi-Wan had found a window at the end of the corridor next to the Naboo delegation's suite. A warm glow cast across the window, warming the usually cold Jedi. He pulled at his cloak seeking any protection he could from the inborn chill. 

After a time, he turned back to the door and wondered whether he had done the right thing leaving his padawan in there, alonewith his former master.

Through the training bond, he reached for Bali and felt the brush of the child's mind. He sensed mention of the river stone and Bali's fierce protectiveness of it. It gave a small smile to the tired Jedi. He had thought that by giving Bali the stone without explanation, the boy would gain more from exploring its special properties on his own. He had not underestimated Bali.

______________________

__

Holonet Broadcasting Company

"again we warn you. If there are younglings present, please to do not let them see this footage. This is coming off the Aveniar's primary newsnet. Live footage. Chairman Regnosz's believed assassins, two Jedi Knights, have been sentenced to death. Again, this footage is hard to watch. They are being burned alive as we speak in one of the most barbarian displays of corporal punishment. Live footage. The League of Secessionists refused any inquiry into the matter by the Republic or the Jedi Council. We will continue to offer the footage as long as the feed lasts but please use discretion when viewing it. They are pouring more fuel on the fire. Look at those flames, you can hardly see the two Jedi in the flames"

________________________

__

The Book of Antagonism

Adjani'esan twisted about and gave the young man behind her a luscious smile. It was quickly returned with a blush and an embarrassed glance away. 

"Oh, don't look away," Adjani purred as she reached out and brushed a powder blue finger along the young Capriian aide's jawline. 

The Caprii nervously clutched his work to his chest and sheltering himself behind the dark gray robes of his station. His dark eyes followed the beautiful Jedi, but his body as well as his adherence to duty made him scurry away all the more quickly down the corridor. 

"Humans," she sighed, "never any fun when you want them to be." She turned her attention back to her patrol of the Senatorial Towers. The level of boredom was unbelievable and she dearly wished to be assigned to some more interesting mission, like protecting a spoiled prince or a small clan war. Anything was better than being trapped in a building with stuffy politicians. 

Maybe she could accidently on purpose run into Obi-Wan and his giggly padawan again. Certainly, there was something she could do to stir up the storm clouds in the master's pale blue eyes, she mused silently.

The Force tugged at her, pulling at her senses. 

A snap followed by the warm hum of an emerald green lightsaber filled the corridor as the Twi'lek Jedi moved into a more defensive mode. She carefully slinked through the hall, pausing at the intersection. In a flash of green she brought her weapon up, but pulled out of the deadly strike.

The Capriian aide she had played with moments earlier stumbled forward. His dark eyes bright with terror at the sight of the fierce Jedi warrior. He tried to get away, but his feet tangled in the long gray robe and he fell. Adjani's quick reflexes caught the young man but it was too late. The young man was dead before she eased him to the floor. A triangular shaped shard jutted from his back. 

Reaching for her comm, Adjani quickly backed away from the body, scanning the corridor for his attacker. 

The darkness quickly overwhelmed her, clouding her mind. Vengier's blade would have severed her head if not for her skill. She blocked the attack but was quickly driven back. 

Adjani leapt backward, twisted and landed on the other side of the Sith. "Thought you were going to surprise me?" She lashed out, proving her skill and quickly setting the dark lord on the defensive. "You may have had a chance against a padawan and an old man, but I am neither."

"You talk to much!" Vengier hissed, swiping erratically at the cool, calculated blows delivered by the Twi'lek. 

Feeling comfortable, Adjani pressed forward, quickly driving the Sith towards another intersection. It would give her a little more room to fight and easily finish this little game. Ever since the rumored reappearance of the Sith nine years ago, she had trained for this moment. It would be hers.

Vengier reached out, drawing on the Force. Fixtures in the corridor rattled as they were violently pulled on, with cracks and pops, the ornamentation ripped free, plowing through the air, directed at the Twi'lek. 

Battered by flying objects, Adjani leapt backward a step, striking violently out at debris thrown at her.

Using the opening, Vengier struck. The crimson blade was driven into Adjani's shoulder. The Twi'lek growled, biting back a scream as she stumbled away.

"It hurts," Vengier hissed, approaching the wounded Jedi. "It knows pain, but not my pain."

In a flash, Adjani called her weapon from her right, to her left hand and lunged for the masked figure. 

The folds of the dark shroud hid the speed at which Vengier moved, twisting just out of Adjani's deadly reach. In a swift motion, the Sith turned back, driving the red blade down, slicing through the brown cloak. Adjani tumbled, rolled and leapt, landing gracefully on her feet. Determination remained strong in her dark eyes as she sized up her attacker. 

A black gloved hand appeared from the folds of the black shroud and playfully urged Adjani to attack. 

The Jedi remained perfectly still, holding her weapon at ready.

Vengier turned and bolted.

Adjani laughed before taking off after the Sith. Amazing, she thought, this was the Sith that had given Jinn and his apprentice so much trouble? She rounded the corner the figure had vanished into and found nothing. A viewing deck was all that stood there. Studying the corridor with the Force, Adjani conceded that the dark lord had gotten away. She quickly called in a report to Master Sev'ali, who was coordinating the Jedi security within the building.

She silently chastised herself for loosing her prey as she slowly ventured close to the viewing deck. There were no alarms indicating the protective field had been disrupted.

Still, something in the Force did not feel right. Not quite a warning but not something Adjani could easily ignore. She stepped out into the center of the deck where the bright, late afternoon sun glowed against her skin. Warily she reached for her weapon.

Sunlight glinted of an air taxi, hovering curiously close to the building, casted a bright gleam of light into Adjani's eyes, causing her to quickly turn away. The field collapsed, but no alarms sounded. The rush of wind alerted the Twi'lek warrior. She spun just in time to be swallowed in darkness. She struggled, but her feet were ripped out from beneath her as Vengier Force shoved her over the railing. 

A shrill cry ripped from the woman as she grasped for a handhold, dangling far above the city below.

"Try holding on without an arm!" Vengier crowed. A flash of the crimson blade severed Adjani's right arm just below the shoulder sending the Twi'lek tumbling. The searing pain nearly blinded her, but Adjani fought to focus, using the Force to direct her fall. She bounced off another viewing deck force field before crashing into a lower level docking station. 

____________________

__

The Book of the Protector

Padmé moved silently into the common room of her apartment. She glanced out at the night sky, even if on Coruscant it was never truly dark. 

A warm gray tunic with dark trews tucked into boots made up her less than formal attire. She glanced back toward the private apartments where her faithful assistant and handmaiden played the part of the Senator. Another attack in the building had taken the life of a Capriian aide and left a Jedi Knight critically injured had brought this added measure of security to her life.

The room felt a little chilly and she quickly pulled on a matching poncho. It was a little bulky and something she normally would not wear on Coruscant but it concealed weapon and other useful items, just in case. While Padmé possessed great faith in her security, she would not cower in the face of danger. If she could fight, she would.

Speaking of security, Padmé glanced about. The tight braid her hair had been drawn into twisted over her shoulder, then dangled down her back. Her gaze found Anakin Skywalker standing in a shadowed corner; he seemed to take in the entire room except her.

A soft smile was offered, but Anakin did not respond, drawing a disgruntled feeling from the young Senator. Padmé walked across the room to the Jedi apprentice and studied his solemn features. He was so young, so handsome. She quickly shook off the notion, reminding herself again that he was too young, especially to face the dangers that certainly waited him in his commitment to the Jedi Order. "You took me by surprise earlier," she said evenly. "Had I not been so taken aback I probably would have answered better."

"But not differently," Anakin stated flatly.

Padmé struggled against her emotions, masking them behind a professional demeanor. "Will you be here in the morning, Jedi Skywalker?"

"It is my duty to protect you. I will never be far from your side until this crisis is over."

"Good, because I have someplace important to go and you will escort me."

"Yes, Milady."

The cool formality brought a frown to the Senator's delicate features. 

____________________

__

The Book of Assassinations

Senator Bail Organa's conference with members of the Loyalist Committee had gone relatively well, but he was still put off that the Chancellor had been late to arrive and had to leave early. It had left him to wonder whether his negotiations had meant anything to Palpatine. Throughout the entire meeting, the Chancellor seemed distracted even disinterested.

His weariness with politics quickly subsided at the entrance to the protected corridor that led to his suite. The Senator glanced back at his assistant Lome Freol, then at the Jedi master and apprentice that followed and beyond them the half dozen Alderaan security guards in their gray uniforms. 

"Of course," Organa said with a hint of bravado in his voice, "I appreciate this, but my own people and the extra security–"

"Are not trained to fight this assassin," Obi-Wan evenly interrupted.

Stopping at his door, Organa paused to study the Jedi master. "What does it say that this assassin has already killed two Jedi?"

"Only one," Obi-Wan corrected. "He was young and inexperienced and should not have confronted the assassin on his own. Knight Adjani'esan, is critically injured but the healers feel she will eventually recover should she survive the day."

It did not slip the Senator's attention that mention of the knight's name brought a sad little frown to Bali. The elegantly dressed man, in dark blue robes, turned toward his door and stared at it suspiciously. Offering up a cavalier laugh, he asked, "You don't think there is anything in their waiting for me?"

"No." Obi-Wan's answer was firm, definite. In many ways it settled Organa's raging nerves. 

The Jedi were the first to enter, then the private guard flanked Senator and his assistant. Inside, the suite was considerably larger than that of the Naboo delegation's. It was a testament to the power of the Alderaan man's pull in the Senate and the pivotal influence the world held within the Republic. The large, finely decorated common room remained intact and undisturbed but the Jedi remained on alert.

Organa marched around his protection and glanced about. "Everything seems fine." He gave a slightly unsettled grin as he paused to study the Jedi. Deciding it was safe; he motioned Lome to the transparasteel enclosed office.

* * * * *

Obi-Wan scanned the room visually and then carefully pulled it apart through the Force searching for the slightest trace of darkness. That elusive shadow did not exist and it gave the Jedi master a little relief. "You should stay close to your guard," Obi-Wan said, causing the Senator to pause.

Organa looked rather unhappy to have all his private guard pressing into the room. "I realize that my safety is the concern here, but I am sufficiently protected with the patrols outside the building and these gentlemen standing guard outside my office." He hesitated, noting Obi-Wan's stern look. "Master Kenobi, I understand that it is for my sake. I also understand that if this killer is determined enough, no amount of protection will save me."

Slowly, reluctantly Obi-Wan agreed allowing the Senator to chase his security back out into the corridor. Once that had been done, Organa and his assistant retreated into the private office leaving the two Jedi to the common room.

The Jedi master offered the padawan a weary smile as Bali curiously studied the lush surroundings. _Be wary, Padawan,_ Obi-Wan sent through their bond.

__

Yes, Master.

Obi-Wan just stood there for a moment taking in the feeling of the apartment, adjusting to the rhythms that moved silently through it. Beyond the thick walls, he sensed movement and emotions of the beings that lived and worked within the massive structure. The fear of the assassin, political turmoil and general greed bombarded the Jedi as the beings tried to go about their daily lives.

Something lightly tugged on the Force and he turned his attention back to the apartment, searching it. Delving into the very fiber of the room he grasped for the shadow that did not exist.

"Master," Bali rasped.

Overwhelmed by the shock welling in his apprentice, Obi-Wan turned to see what had the boy's attention.

Through the large, gently curving window, offset by the brilliant blue sky, a bright yellow air taxi careened toward them.

"Raise the security!" Obi-Wan barked, motioning the boy toward the doors. Toward safety. Certain Bali was following orders, Obi-Wan bolted the other direction to Organa's office. 

A flash of orange erupted from a small mounted weapon on the taxi smashing through the outer wall's protective barrier. The transparasteel glowed with the heat of the blasts as the attacker continued to fire. 

Alarms sounded around the building warning of the attack. 

* * * * *

Bursting into the corridor, Bali cried out, "Assassin!" He stumbled in shock realizing no one was there. The padawan glanced around, casting out but the surrounding corridors were suspiciously empty. 

Alarms bellowed through the halls, indicating the security breech. 

He grabbed his comm unit to hail other Jedi in the building but only found static over the channel. Clutching the device, he bolted down the hall to a nearby emergency comm. 

Small hands smashed against the dark communications unit as if that would cause it to start working again. Turning back to the corridor, Bali cast out again but it felt as if he were the only one in the building. The only thing that remained was the faint brush of his master through the training bond. _They are all gone!_ He mentally screamed to his master.

__

Stay in the hall!

* * * * *

Obi-Wan dived across the large desk made of sturdy Alderaan keneer wood, and tackled the Senator and Lome just as the air taxi smashed into the damaged window. 

The room violently rattled and shook with the force of the impact as debris exploded throughout. Flying sections of wall and durasteel rained through the office's transparent divider shattering it.

The Jedi's heavy brown cloak created little protection against the falling shards as he sheltered Organa and his assistant.

A crisp, cool wind tore through the wrecked suite as arcs of electricity rippled from damaged conduits. Outside light reflected against the clear shards that scraped and snapped as they were shaken from the Jedi's cloak to the floor. 

"Senator?" Obi-Wan asked as he sat up slowly pausing only long enough to see that his padawan was still safe in the corridor. 

"I'm fine," the older man grunted as he too sat up. A thick stream of blood down his forehead marred his handsome features as he glanced about. Spying Lome crumbled under debris, he started to crawl toward him.

Obi-Wan grabbed the Senator and quickly pulled him back behind the desk. "No," he said tersely. 

"But–"

"We cannot help him now."

Organa withdrew slightly upon seeing the spray of red quickly covering the imported carpet.

The Jedi looked around the desk into the shattered common area. Icy winds blew in from the gaping hole in the outer wall. Yellow durasteel parts were scattered everywhere. Part of the floor was gouged out leaving a jagged path between them and the door. "Is there a back way out of this place?"

"Yes," the dazed Senator said shakily. He pointed toward the doors to the private quarters. 

"Are you up to it?"

"Yes," the dark haired man replied, steeling him for the task ahead.

Obi-Wan was the first out of the office. The hum of his activated lightsaber was nearly drowned out by the emergency alarms. He moved slowly, searching the remains of the room for the occupant of the now empty air taxi. Or at least that was what the crumpled yellow shape smashed into the far wall had once been. 

He moved cautiously, all the while creating a human shield for Bail as the Senator bolted toward the secret back exit.

__

tsk tsk

"Is this any way to treat a guest?" The mechanical voice echoed through the room. "After all my troubles, you two are just going to sneak out?" Vengier stepped out into the narrow corridor that led to the private area, blocking the escape route.

Obi-Wan retreated a step quickly bringing his saber up. He shifted to better shield the Senator.

The Sith activated the crimson blade and took a vicious swipe at the Jedi.

In a flash, Obi-Wan blocked the deadly blow as he defensively backed Organa into the common room again. "The front door," he said calmly never taking his gaze from the beast. He kept backing until he bumped into the stalled Senator. 

"There's no floor," Organa replied as he looked down into the apartment below. 

"Don't worry, Senator, I'll take your life quick and nearly painless. I am often capable of mercy. Just ask Captain Kinyo." The smooth, emotionless mask seemed to stare at the Jedi. "He would tell youif only they could find his head. Shouldn't have involved him, Kenobi."

Obi-Wan narrowed his gaze. "Over the car," he ordered.

The Senator from Alderaan quickly shrugged off the robe of his station and bolted toward the smoking remains of the air taxi. As he climbed over the twisted durasteel, Obi-Wan engaged the Sith. 

_____________________________

__

The Book of the Assassin

The smoldering, crumpled husk of the air taxi severely burned where flesh touched the yellow body making Bail Organa's struggle over the wreckage more difficult. Adrenaline charged his shaken form as he plowed over the debris-strewn floor, focused on the main entrance. Fragments of window crunched under his boots as he raced for the skewed front door. He quickly palmed the controls but was met only with a soft grinding. 

The clash of sabers behind the Senator urged him to fight harder with the damaged door. Sweat beaded and stung the gashes in his flesh. The door would not budge. The Alderaan native twisted about searching the debris for something he could use to pry the door open. Jamming a bent piece of durasteel into the sliver thin opening, he forced the door to slide a few centimeters. 

On the other side, Organa spied the bright green eyes of the Jedi padawan as he too struggled to open the door.

* * * * *

The hum and crash of lightsabers was nearly drowned out by the wail of alarms but it did not slow the combatants. The black shroud twisted about in the wind that swept violently through the damaged apartment as Vengier leapt about, just out of reach of Obi-Wan's glowing blue blade. The Jedi was by far the expert at saberplay and quickly dominated Vengier's attempts at attack. He moved with great speed and grace, easily bounding around the toppled furniture while continuing to strike at the dark beast. Vengier struggled against the constant barrage, being pushed through the apartment away from the escaping Senator.

With each block and blow, Vengier became more erratic, causing Obi-Wan to retreat a step. The young master feinted an attack but somersaulted the other direction springing around the Sith. Blue flashed as he guided a powerful down stroke at the dark shroud. 

Vengier twisted, blocking then slammed the Jedi in the face with the crimson bladed hilt sending Obi-Wan stumbling backwards. "You cannot surprise me. I know all your weaknesses." A sweep of the Sith's gloved hand sent transparasteel shards slicing through the air.

Expertly Obi-Wan dispatched the attack. "You know nothing, Trocha," he growled as he deflected a wild swing.

The Sith laughed cruelly but did not miss a beat, bounding to the side, then lunging for the Jedi. The air crackled with the electricity of the clashing lightsabers. Blue blazed as the blade was thrust into the layers of black shroud. Vengier leapt backward as outer layers of cloak fell to the floor between the combatants as the dark lord slinked away.

Obi-Wan struggled to control his breathing. He had not been ready to go head on into a saber battle and his strength was quickly wanning. 

The crimson blade sliced through the air as Vengier rushed the Jedi.

* * * * *

Bali could feel his master's growing weariness and heard the battle just beyond the door. He knew he had to get the Senator out and help his master. 

"Get back!" The padawan ordered and would have been surprised that Organa obeyed if he were not so preoccupied. Quickly centering, Bali drew the Force around him like a cloak. Visualizing the power moving through him, he guided it into his arms and hands to bolster his strength. The apprentice made the damaged components bend easing the door's glide back into the wall. 

* * * * *

Vengier twisted at the door's squeal against its frame. The Jedi took advantage of the distraction and struck. Sabers locked and broke free. Before Obi-Wan could respond, the dark lord directed a twisted scrap of durasteel at master's back. Obi-Wan tried to strike it down but the twisted metal broke through his defenses, snagging his cloak sleeve and pinning his arm to the wall. 

Bringing the crimson blade about, Vengier moved to deliver the deathblow to the trapped Jedi. "You should have listened to me!" 

Obi-Wan braced his shoulder against the wall and kicked out, the heel of his boot caught the dark lord across the black mask. Vengier howled at the impact that sent the dark lord sprawling across the floor. In a blur of shadow, the Sith launched a durasteel shard across the room.

* * * * *

Senator Organa gave a pained grunt when the triangular shape tore into his back. He shoved his way through the door, stumbling a few steps before collapsing. Bali tried to catch the much larger man; he could do little but ease the fall to the floor.

The Force called to the boy and just as he tried to respond, he was ripped off the floor in a powerful grasp. A surprised cry escaped him as he was drawn close to the emotionless black mask. 

The instant the shock began to wear off, Bali began to struggle against Vengier, grabbing and tearing at the shadowed form. Small hands pounded the hard mask but did little to phase the Sith. "Let me go!" Bali growled just as he landed a kick to the beast's solar plexus and was thrown free, crashing into the wall.

Without further distraction, Vengier ripped the shard from the Senator's back and kicked the barely conscious man over. The black shroud flowed as the dark lord dived down, driving the bloody metal into Organa's chest causing him to make a terrible choking sound as flesh and bone were cleaved apart. 

In a flash of brilliant blue, Vengier's saber arm was severed and sent flying harmlessly out of the way. Before the dark lord could react, Obi-Wan's weapon singed the Sith's cloak. He drove the unarmed opponent away from the fallen Senator.

Bolting back into the apartment, the now weaponless Vengier used the Force to cast the scattered debris at the Jedi. Obi-Wan easily defended himself by striking down the broken pieces of furniture as he drove the Sith toward the gaping wound in the side of the apartment. 

The cool winds ripped in from the destroyed window, sending the Sith's cloak fluttering all about and revealing a severed servomechanism where an arm had once been. "At least I lost no more of my humanity to you, Kenobi."

"You never had any," Obi-Wan replied as he closed in on the masked figure. 

The Sith froze on the edge, precariously close to the newly made opening. "Not everyone can be an honorable Jedi like you," Vengier hissed. The shrouded figure turned to look at the Senate building on the horizon. "A senator is nothing compared to who dies next." The dark lord turned and leapt from the shattered window. Obi-Wan threw himself toward the opening but was left to stare out into the bright blue sky and the city far below. 

Vengier was just gone. 

Instantly Obi-Wan became aware of the dull thoughts of his apprentice and bolted back to the hall. 

Bali was struggling toward the fallen Senator who lay in a pool of his own blood. "Master!" the concerned boy cried out as Obi-Wan knelt next to the fallen man. 

The Jedi master reached out and found the thin pulse and the fleeting life of the Senator. "Get help," he said quickly. "Go!"

Bali was on his feet and down the hall in a heartbeat as Obi-Wan pressed folds of material around the wound in the senator's chest as he applied pressure. Carefully he reached out on the Force and called upon its infinite power to slow the bleeding. He was so focused on the task of keeping the Senator from bleeding out that he barely noticed the thunder of footsteps quickly approaching.

"The Senator has been injured," Obi-Wan barked. "We need a medical team–"

The butt of a blaster rifle cut the order short.

_________________________

__

The Book of Details

Qui-Gon sighed as he turned his gaze back to the expansive window of the Naboo suite. The already intensive patrols had been double, maybe tripled, since the alarms had sounded. 

There had been an attack on another senator. Internal communications were still spotty but he had gathered the assassin had used an air taxi. The tower had been under lock down for nearly an hour. Little else of what had happened had gotten out. 

"This is Lyka Uan," the HBC reporter's voice filled the common room. 

The Jedi master twisted about to study the Holonet report that hovered above the holoprojector Sirceé had brought in. The young handmaiden in formal wear curled up on a couch, her gaze firmly fixed on the fluttering blue image.

"coming to you live from the Senatorial Towers. The is Heig Traigor, we are being told by Senatorial security that we have to leave." The tall, thin humanoid man tried to continue as security forces overran the scene and the image broke up.

"Thank you, Haig," Lyka said as she turned to face the camera from behind her desk. "Reports are sketchy at best. The security is keeping a tight hold on information but we have word that there is a press conference in the works. What we know as of right now: An air taxi was hijacked and flown into the Senatorial Tower. We have word that there was an assassination attack and one Senator and staff member are dead. Two assassins are being held for questioning."

Qui-Gon sighed slightly before addressing the young woman. "Where did Senator Amidala say she was going?"

The Amidala look alike briefly pulled her attention away from images being flashed through the air. "She did not, Master Jinn," came the rather annoyed reply. Her regal posture gave way to that of a concerned young woman. "She said she was meeting with an old friend."

The young senator should have known, Qui-Gon mentally growled. In such uncertain times the first thing Padmé did was sneak off. He should have been informed of her plans. He feared for her life, especially in the face of the assassin's most recent attack. And where was his apprentice? Turning his attention to the young woman again, Qui-Gon growled, "She took no security–"

"She took Anakin Skywalker with her."

_________________________________

__

The Book of Happy Reunions

"Qui-Gon should have been told," Anakin said dully as he escorted Padmé through the halls of the Royal Coruscant hotel. 

"Are you not adequate protection?" Padmé asked as she spun to face the young Jedi. Her stern look fell under the soft tones of her lightly painted face, masked in unruly curls. 

"No, Milady, I did not mean it like that."

"You want to go back?" Padmé asked allowing a small grin.

Anakin stopped and quietly studied the trying young woman. Sighing loudly he broke into a wide smile. "You are infuriating."

Reaching out and brushing her fingers over Anakin's cheek, Padmé laughed. "I knew I could get a smile out of you." She paused. "Now, do you want to stay, or should we contact Master Jinn and–"

"No," Anakin answered quickly. "I want to be with you."

Padmé smiled. "Good, because I have a surprise for you."

"Really?"

"No, I'm just joking," she giggled. "Yes, really."

Anakin glanced around the magnificently decorated hotel corridor. "What surprise do you have in mind? After all, you are bringing me to a hotel."

Padmé just stopped and stared at him with wide eyes. "Excuse me? What do you take me for?" At Anakin's look of horror, she started laughing and wrapped herself around his arm. "I didn't think Jedi had thoughts like that."

"I am a Jedi, not dead."

"Oh, maybe I should think twice about being in your company without a chaperone." 

"Maybe."

Padmé blushed as she quickly glanced away. "We are here," she said quickly but noted the leering look in Anakin's eyes. The blush brightened her cheeks as she palmed the door chime. "You want to give people the wrong idea?"

"About what?"

The door swooshed open revealing Shmi's thin face.

Anakin just stood there silent and wide-eyed.

"Ani?"

In the distance of a heartbeat, Anakin leaped forward and scooped the frail woman into his arms. His grip was powerful as he swung Shmi around. Tears blinded him and he wished his eyes were clear so he could see her plainly. "I missed you so much," he cried. 

Tight in her son's grip, Shmi was barely able to reach up and brush her fingers down the side of his face. "Oh Ani." She started to weep. "You're all grown up."

"I'm still your little boy," Anakin said as he slightly loosened his hold but was afraid to let go for fear he would lose her again. 

Padmé quietly closed the door behind her and crept to the small lounge so mother and son could be alone.

Anakin visually searched the older woman's face. "But how?"

Shmi smiled softly. "A very kind young lady bought my freedom."

Immediately Anakin sought Padmé out.

The Senator frowned slightly. "It was Miss Thelo, Supreme Chancellor Palpatine's assistant. It was her family's way of thanking you for your part in the liberation of Naboo."

Anakin just smiled as he led Shmi to the couch. 

The older woman was content to be there and hold the little boy that had grown into a man in the blink of an eye. "I have missed you so much," she half wept. "I missed you growing up."

"I was brave," he whispered, gently holding Shmi's hand. "I did what you said. I didn't look back. I am a Jedi now."

___________________

__

The Book of Long Falls

Far too slowly, the fuzzy blackness warmed up to a fuzzy grayness. Pain reverberated through Obi-Wan's daze mind. All he could remember was pain and then nothingness. Then a fuzzy whiteness moved into his mind and he remembered the Sith, the battle and Senator Organa. 

The thought of the injured Senator made him try to call out but all he managed was a pained groan. As the miasma in his brain started to dissipate, the constant chill that had haunted him for years caused him to search for the inviting warmth. He reached for the edges of his cloak but only grasped air. It was a jarring sensation that quickly cleared his vision as he tried to sit up.

Something jammed into his shoulder blade and smashed him back to the blood stained floor. "Lay still!" A gruff order was barked.

The pressure exserted against his shoulder kept Obi-Wan pinned to the floor, but still allowed him slight mobility. He twisted, staring into the corridor packed with blaster rifle toting security personnel. From that position he could vaguely make out the shape of a large security officer that held him prisoner. 

"Well?" His captor asked as another man marched into the corridor. 

"It don't look good," was the reply.

The owner of the boot shoved a little harder against Obi-Wan's shoulder. "Here that, Jedi scum?" 

Obi-Wan closed his eyes at the unmistakable sound of a rifle being readied against his ear. The muzzle was cold against the back of his neck. There was something unsettling about these security guards. They were good men, he could feel it, but there was something else, it was elusive and dark. Something he could not quite–

The boot dug deeper into his shoulder as the guard above him growled, "If Senator Organa dies, so do you."

"You are mistaken–"

The boot slammed into Obi-Wan's shoulder, roughly shutting him up. "Don't want to hear another word from you, mind bender," came the warning.

The roughly placed boot made it difficult for the Jedi to breathe. Even, but shallow breaths was all he could manage as he tried to relax. He cast out and found Bali's warm presence. The bond was quiet but the boy was conscious which left the master mildly concerned. Carefully, he craned his neck and found Bali sitting several meters away against the corridor wall. Another large security officer stood watch over him. 

Bali stared blankly across the hall as if he were mentally elsewhere. Bruises had begun to form against the left side of his face where Vengier had shoved him into the wall. In his lap was Obi-Wan's cloak all wadded up and his bound wrists lifelessly lay on top of the brown material. The end of his padawan braid had come loose and it had unraveled, leaving the flame tip tangled and misshapen against his shoulder.

The man with his boot dug into Obi-Wan's back continued to talk. "That was a good Jedi trick, pretend to protect him and when no one is looking off the Senator."

"We–"

The boot smashed into Obi-Wan's spine where vertebrae had once been shattered eliciting a pained cry.

"Shut up, mind bender. Or do I have to take your head off to keep you quiet?"

Obi-Wan groaned. After the initial wave of pain had been dampened he slowly opened his eyes and studied Bali. 

The boy continued to stare sadly across the way. 

__

Padawan?

The boy did not answer. Instead, tears began to stream down his cheeks.

Someone came into the corridor. "HBC is reporting that Senator Organa is dead."

Obi-Wan just closed his eyes.

Bali began to sniffle loudly, as the tears grew more insistent.

The boot man spoke. "I say we save everyone time and trouble and do this Jedi like he did the Senator. I've got a vibroshiv that will work."

Uproarious laughter reverberated through the corridor.

That elusive feeling of darkness seemed to be spreading and becoming more maleficent with every passing moment. 

Bali broke into a mournful wail.

"Shut up, Jedi brat!" Someone yelled but it only made Bali cry worse.

"He's just a child," Obi-Wan growled then gritted his teeth in preparation for another boot kick. 

Instead, the unique sound of a vibroshiv filled the air.

Bali continued to whine and sob.

The boots moved in front of Obi-Wan's vision as the guard marched toward the wailing boy. "Shut up!" he barked.

Freed, Obi-Wan leapt to his feet and threw himself at the guard. Both of them slammed to the ground before anyone could register what was happening. The vibroshiv slid across the floor.

The tearful child was suddenly replaced by a Jedi padawan as the binders fell open, releasing the boy's wrists. From beneath the folds of Obi-Wan's rumpled cloak, Bali revealed two lightsabers. "Master!"

Obi-Wan leapt off the man, as he instinctively called his saber to his hand. The flash of blue immediately deflected a volley of shots that erupted into the corridor.

Snatching up the Jedi's cloak, Bali flung it at a nearby officer draping him in the folds. The apprentice activated his own violet blade and rushed to his master's side.

"Do not harm them," Obi-Wan ordered out loud while deflecting the blaster bolts harmlessly into the walls. The Jedi were overwhelmed and driven back into the apartment. They were quickly pinned between the security and the damage caused by Vengier's attack. "To the opening, now!"

"Master?" 

"Go!" Obi-Wan barked. The Jedi master quickly moved to shield his escaping padawan from the closing attack. Turning his attention to the dust-covered floor, a sweep of his hand guided the Force. The disturbed dust was immediately set airborne temporarily blinding the security guards. Clipping his saber to his belt, the Jedi clasped another object as he joined his apprentice. "Hang on." A firm hold around the boy's waist and he leapt from the gaping hole the Sith had earlier escaped from.

Icy wind fluttered through the folds of the Jedi's clothing as they fell passed patrol vehicles beyond the skyline, deep into the city planet below.

Obi-Wan reached out, clutching the compact liquid line gun and fired. The line attached itself to the base of a service pad. The line suddenly went taut and the Jedi's arm was nearly wrenched from his shoulder at the sudden change of momentum.

Bali shrieked as they were whipped under a deteriorating walkway and the line snapped.

_____________________________

Book of Flesh and Bone Part IX

__

"I feel like you are avoiding me. I suppose that should be expected after our conversation at the park." Halla gave a weak laugh as she struggled with her blue wrap in the crisp evening air. She stepped off the path and over the grass to the edge of a precipice. Far below, the lights twinkled in the Xim village. She turned her gaze to the deep blue curtain of night. "The moons are so full and beautiful tonight, don't you think?" Not receiving an answer, Halla frowned. "The Xim would say: Co Kira togri esulat balitiro._ It roughly translates into: No shadows can defeat the light."_

A soft breeze shifting through the leaves of distant trees was the only reply.

She sharply twisted to face the Jedi Knight next to her. "In the time you have been here, you have not joined us for a single meal. Our chef has prepared a wonderful Kyettan braised boar this evening. It is considered a delicacy on the finer tables of Coruscant."

Obi-Wan's gaze remained fixed on the village below. "I do not feel it would be appropriate."

"Why not? Can you not share a meal with your hosts? I am certain my husband would be interested in news from abroad. We do not get to travel much." Even in the dim light, Halla was caught by the cold blue eyes that fell upon her.

"I think there has been enough information exchanged," the Knight replied before turning back to the village below. 

She did not like the tone in his voice. It would have been so easy to respond with the same callousness that her own master had once used against her when she was wounded, but Halla could not bring herself to do that. Not yet, at least. Putting a warm smile on her face, she continued as if she had never heard his words. "Ighista tells me that I should leave you to your duties. Of course my husband is quite interested in recovering the errant scientist. I cannot imagine why anyone would kidnap her. Ighista explained that this Melorian could clone body parts that cannot be replaced with cybernetics. Or better that we can replace cybernetic limbs with real flesh and bone." She held out a hand toward the knight and studied her fingers. "Can you imagine real skin, real blood and bone? Your own nerves and not something synthetically created? Cybernetics was a great advance in the healing arts but it cannot replace the true touch of flesh against flesh. You will always know it is fake." She smiled. "This new technology my husband is working on can replace organs too. It can fix me. Inside." She placed her hand to her abdomen. Through the material, she could feel the scars of injuries past. "It can make me whole again. This time the Jedi won't take that away from me."

"The raiders. You were injured in an attack–"

"An attack on a ship on a mission that my master took. A mission handed down from the Jedi Council. They all conspired to send me into danger."

"Your master chose to. She could have said no." 

"Is that what you believe?" Halla asked softly while shaking her head sadly. "The nearest team was two days away. We were ordered to protect the dowry of some clan chieftain's daughter from pirates. I nearly died on that mission. They didn't tell you that, did they?"

"Halla–"

"No!" Retreating a step from the precipice, she struggled to gain control of her emotions. "I wasn't in any shape to defend against an attack. Amazingly the fall–no, I was thrown–into the vent shaft did not kill me. Although there have been many times I wished I were dead since then." In the cool air evening air, Halla struggled with her blue and green wrap. 

Obi-Wan never took his gaze from the village below. "You should have–"

"Been safe in the Temple?" Mirthless laughter filled the air. "They sent us away. They sent me away because they could not have a pregnant padawan disrupting the serenity of the Temple. That would have destroyed the whole air of repression."

"Halla."

"Don't. There is nothing you can say that will change anything."

"You should have told me."

"Why? Would you have left the Order?"

There was a moment of silence. "Yes."

"But you paused."

"If the baby was Force sensitive, it would have been raised in the Temple," Obi-Wan said.

"If. But do you honestly think they would have let you know which one was yours?"

"I would have known." Turned to look at her. "It is not unheard of."

"No, you are right. But how many Jedi mothers and fathers get to train their children? None. I want contact with my child." Her breath hitched. "Doesn't matter what would have been." Her thoughts drifted. "My master had convinced the Chief and his people that I wasn't pregnant, that it was normal foy my species to look like that." More sad laughter escaped her. "The ruse was destroyed when I dragged myself from the vent shaft in labor. I do not even know where my master was. All I remember was the Chief's three wives helping me." The young woman seemed to melt as she slid to the cool, grassy lawn. "I woke in bacta, staring out at my master. She never even got a scratch in the raid. I lost my baby. My master said the wives tried but they couldn't save the baby, I fell to far."

Halla did not look up. She did not want to know how her words were affecting the Jedi. Even if a part of her wanted to wound him like she was.

"As soon as my physical body healed and was repaired my master thought it was best to go back on missions. She believed that now that I was over my little distraction I would be a better, stronger Jedi for it. Master Denshau always believed that they would send the baby to live with some deserving family and I would continue my training. There was no room for compromise in her mind, that was the way it was going to be, end of story. I was going to complete my training."

Obi-Wan studied her but said nothing, which relieved Halla. If he had spoken, she would not have been able to continue.

"I tried to be the padawan she wanted. Everything was fine for a little while, at least until that Rodian cruiser."

"What happened?"

"So you can run and tell the Council? I am sure they are still waiting to find out how my master and two hundred passengers died." She gave a weak smile. "The ship had a reactor failure. Not all of the escape pods worked, besides, there were too many passengers for the few pods. They could not all have escaped."

"What about Master Denshau?" There was uncertainty in Obi-Wan's voice.

"She was dead long before then. You should have seen the look on her face the moment before I opened the air lock on her." Her jewel green eyes looked up at the shocked Knight as her lips drew into a thin smile. Through the Force, she could feel his repulsion at her words.

"How could you?" The words were spoken slow and evenly belying any emotion that could be raging beneath Obi-Wan's cool exterior.

"She was lecturing me as usual. She never stopped after I had awaken from the coma. There was nothing I could do right. It was never right or my heart just was not in it. She had turned to walk away just as a maintenance droid was exiting an air lock. She tried to respond." Halla moved her hand through the chill air mocking a Force push. "I shoved the droid at her and they both fell in. I really was not thinking about what I was doing. I just triggered the door. She was yelling at me. My master was afraid but I didn't want to hear anymore lectures."

"So you just killed her?" The calmness had seeped away, as the Jedi visibly struggled against the horror that was being told him.

"Do you imagine it being all that different than what you did? You bowed to the Council, placating them while I was sent from the Temple. While you were bowing humbly, our baby died."

"You murdered your master," the disgust bled into his voice as he retreated. "The dark side–"

"Only feeds on hate. I do not hate. I didn't hate when I killed her. I did not feel anything at all. Even now, I feel nothing. Not joy or anger, love or hurt, nothing at all." She did not try to move afraid he would retreat from her if she reached for him. "You have killed before, what difference does it make?"

"Only in defense, never in cold-blood."

__________________

__

The Book of Rough Landings

"Can we do that again?"

Obi-Wan groaned as he slowly turned to face the grinning padawan sitting on the duracrete next to him. "I would prefer not."

A little giggle escaped Bali as he leaned back against the ancient wall they had crashed into and stared up at the looming Senatorial Towers. He watched the dizzying speed at which the patrol speeders wound their way around the structure. "They are searching," he whispered.

"It will take them a little while to figure out where we went," Obi-Wan replied. "I don't suppose you managed to hold onto our communicators?"

Bali reached down and searched the folds of his cloak and then his pockets in his utility belt. He pulled out the river stone. "I still have this."

"I don't think that is going to do much good."

Shrugging, the apprentice placed the rock back in his pocket. He twisted and stared up at the towering structure again. "Do you think they will come after us?"

"Yes," Obi-Wan said plainly as he stretched slightly and slowly got to his feet. "Which means we need to be moving."

"Yes, Master." 

The first few steps were slow and stiff. The Jedi master paused to dampen the pain that was raging through his back. "Come, Padawan."

Bali had to jog to keep up with Obi-Wan's quick pace over lower level walkways. Only having the chance to catch up when they were forced to duck under a platform when a low flying patrol speeder cruised passed. 

Deep in the shadows of the skyline, the air was cold. Moved by the chill, Obi-Wan tugged at the edges of his cloak only to be reminded that he was stripped of it. He turned back to see the little apprentice trudging along behind him. Bali was also without a cloak and looked particularly disheveled. He paused to brush his fingers through Bali's dark hair, setting the spikes on end and adjusting the ginger tipped padawan braid. 

"Are we going back to the Temple?" Bali asked softly while he finished straightening out his rumpled tunic.

"At the moment we are wanted as murderers. It would not be wise to directly involve home."

"We are on our own," the boy whispered softly. Worry marred his youthful features as he glanced up at the Senatorial Towers again.

The walkway the two Jedi had taken gently curved around the massive structure. The rarely seen stone facing of the building's lower levels was a strange sight to both Jedi. It was crude compared to the elegant, modern craftsmanship that had built the upper levels. The visual levels. And yet, the masonry was elegant. Carved figures that had long since turned dark do to the pollution reached out from all angles. The cold, stone eyes in the statue faces of the old Republic silently watched the two Jedi pass. 

A quick hand caught Bali and pulled him back a step. Cracks and lines traced the sunken section of walkway before the two Jedi. Obi-Wan reached out and guided the Force against the walkway, it did not take much pressure before the crumbling duracrete collapsed leaving a gaping hole in the path. 

Bali stumbled back a step. He quickly cast out, aware of movement in the shadows. "It was a trap?"

The older Jedi nodded slightly. "It is used to catch unsuspecting travelers. They fall, get hurt and are easy prey to be robbed."

"Oh."

The Jedi master cast his gaze back up into the rising city. In the distance, above the lower buildings he could see the spiralling form of the HBC News Corp. building rising pristinely above the shadows. The entire upper level of the structure was a massive view screen. While there was no sound, the images spoke clearly to all of the planet's varied occupants and visitors.

The image of the Senatorial Towers was followed by the image of Bail Organa of Alderaan. The image went dark before flashing on stylized, animated footage mocking Obi-Wan and Bali's leap from the tower. Words crawled across the lower screen in Basic as the images repeated. _Senator Organa of Alderaan was brutally murdered by two Jedi posing as his private guard. Tune into HBC for more information._

"But it was the Sith that did it," Bali said worriedly as bright green eyes looked up to his master. "We have to tell them that."

"I don't think they care," Obi-Wan said coolly. Pulling his attention from the view screen, Obi-Wan searched the area around him. Through the Force, he searched the very fabric of his surroundings. The vagueness of the dark Force drew him to a discarded liquid rope gun. The Sith had come this way. 

Light glinted off a departing patrol cruiser. The bright blue flash reminded Obi-Wan of the lightning the Sith master had tried to fry him with. He shook his head trying to clear the thoughts from his mind, wondering why the memory had chosen to reveal itself just then. Turning his thoughts back to the Sith assassin that had escaped, he remembered that pause, when the masked figure gazed out toward the Galactic senate. 

__

A senator is nothing compared to who dies next.

"Palpatine!" The Jedi snapped and without hesitating, he threw himself over the broken walkway landing easily on the other side. "Come, Padawan."

Bali looked down at the big divide then made a short run before bounding over it with a little Force help from his master. The boy crashed into the Jedi and they both stumbled backward.

For an instant, Obi-Wan noted the look of pride in Bali's eyes at completing something but then the urgency of the situation came rushing back. "We need to get word to the Chancellor that he is in danger," Obi-Wan said quickly as he sprinted along the walkway. 

Beneath them on another level, Bali saw the distinctive glow of a battered pay comm unit. "Master!" 

Absently the master brushed his fingers through the boy's spikey hair then leapt over the railing landing near the unit. 

Bali quickly followed suit, hesitating long enough to listen to the low whine of security patrols as they broke off their search. "I think they are leaving, Master."

Obi-Wan motioned the boy into the shadows anyway as he ducked into the comm unit's square cell. He called up the comm's audio interface and tried to contact any Jedi in the vicinity. Fruitless minutes passed. He tried Senate security but received little more than static. Gaining nothing but lost time, the Jedi tried contacting the Senate operator. 

"Senate, how may I direct your call?" The fuzzy image of an Augerian female appeared as she worked several projects at once with her six arms. Static filled the air as the holoimage fluctuated wildly. "Hello? You image is not receiving."

"Please patch me through to Senate Security."

There was a pause and the Augerian worked the system. A concerned look glazed her thin features as all six arms worked the controls. "We seem to be having internal communications errors."

"Jedi. There is Jedi security, page them."

Again, he waited as the Augerian worked the controls.

"I am sorry, but internal systems are not functioning."

"The Supreme Chancellor Palpatine's offices. Use the secure system."

"I am sorry but that is for an emergency only, I cannot–"

"This will be an emergency if you do not patch me through."

"I cannot–"

"I am sure you are very good at your job. You serve the Republic well." Obi-Wan said slowly with heavily ladled Jedi compulsion. "I must speak with the Chancellor."

"You must speak to the Chancellor."

"Put me through."

"Putting you through."

Obi-Wan's patience was tried as the comm unit buzzed softly. A red circle appeared at the base of the imager indicating the secure line had been activated. The image of Jira Thelo appeared but was quickly breaking up, as the secure line was not impermeable to the attack that had disabled communications. "Supreme Chancellor Palpatine's office," the audio crackled and popped.

"This is Jedi Obi-Wan Kenobi. I must speak with the Chancellor."

Jira hesitated. Even in the distorted image, the fury in her eyes was never obscured. When she spoke the tone of her voice was ice cold. "He is in a meeting with Master Jinn."

Drawing on the Force a second time because he had none to waste, Obi-Wan used the Jedi compulsion to elicit immediate action from Jira. "I need to speak to Master Jinn now."

There was a long pause. The image was gone but the audio remained and Qui-Gon spoke. "Jinn speaking."

"Senator Organa is dead," Obi-Wan said clearly.

"Not–"

"I belive the assassin is heading toward the Chancellor next."

There was a long silence as Qui-Gon thought it through.

"We do not have time for this!" Obi-Wan barked.

Bali just stared at his agitated Master worriedly. 

"Where are you?" Qui-Gon finally replied.

____________________

__

The Book of Duty

Shmi's gentle laughter filled the common room of the elegant suite. "Oh, Ani, I am so glad you haven't lost your sense of humor." She happily wiped joyful tears from her eyes, then out of need reached for her son. Her tear dampened fingers brushed across the smooth skin of his cheek. Visually this was not the little boy she had given up nine years ago, but in her heart, Shmi knew this was her son. 

"Sometimes I think I am the only Jedi who possesses one," Anakin said, breaking into her reveries. "Master Windu was not very happy."

Shmi could not ignore the unhappiness in his smile; her joy turned to sadness. "It must be a terribly lonely existence." Her fingers entwined in his. "I thought I was doing the best for you. I had to believe that to go one day after day without your beautiful face." She leaned forward and kissed the young man's cheek. 

"You did," Anakin whispered. 

A series of muffled beeps filled the air. 

Anakin quickly revealed a small comm unit from the folds of his dark cloak. Without bothering to see what the call was about, he moved to shut it off.

"No," Shmi stopped him, pressing a hand over his. "Do not ignore your duties because of me. We have plenty of time to visit."

The young man hesitated and studied his mother before he activated the device. "Anakin here."

"Were are you?"

The urgency in the Master's voice was unmistakable. Anakin rose to his feet. "I am at the Royal Coruscant Hotel." An unnatural pause filled the air. "With Senator Amidala."

"The Senator's life is in danger," came the clipped messages as it quickly broke up. "assassin after PalpatineAnakin?"

"Master?"

"kin? Anakin? GoSenate–"

The message abruptly ended. 

Through the training bond he had strangled during his time with his mother, he could feel his master's concern. There was something else, elusive. Just like the communicator, static filled the bond making it difficult to read his master. Something was terribly wrong. 

"I've got to go," Anakin said at his mother's worried look. Gentler this time, he hugged her and kissed her cheek like he had a thousand times before. 

"Be careful," Shmi said softly letting her boy go. "Be brave."

Anakin kissed his mother's forehead before glancing over at Amidala. "You have to stay here. I'll call for your security after I leave."

Padmé started to say something but the youth was gone.

_______________________________

__

The Book of Trust

A white patrol speeder broke away from the traffic, drifting into the shadows deep in Coruscant's lower levels. An intense mounted light flashed about illuminating everything. 

A loud siren blared, briefly deafening anyone within close range of the security cruiser. As it glided over the crumbling walkways, it continued to sound the siren and sweep the area. The searching light suddenly stopped as the speeder hovered in the air before two Jedi. 

Bali could barely see the speeder for the blinding light, but remained on alert as his master had instructed. Although he felt no immediate threat as the speeder sank to the walkway in front of them. The bright light went out leaving brightly colored spots to mar the apprentice's vision causing him to rely totally on the Force for a time. 

A soft whir brought Bali's attention to the speeder's canopy as it retracted creating a convertible. A young sergeant stood up in the driver's seat. "Jedi Kenobi and Tiro?"

Through the bond, Bali could feel his master's tenseness.

"Yes," Obi-Wan replied.

"I am Sergeant Vyer. By order of Supreme Chancellor Palpatine of the Galactic Republic, you are to be taken to his office immediately."

Bali studied the young security officer and decided he was telling the truth, at least, as he believed it to be. The boy looked to his master patiently for an answer.

When Obi-Wan did not respond, the sergeant added, "Master Jinn informed him of the threat. He also said you would not trust me because you could not."

Still Obi-Wan remained motionless.

The sergeant slid back into his seat, but did nothing else. He watched the Jedi silently. Worry knitted his reddish brows.

"Come, Padawan," Obi-Wan finally responded and led Bali to the patrol speeder. _Be wary._

Yes, Master.

Happily, the young sergeant waved the two Jedi in. "They have been searching for you ever since you didn't check back in." The speeder took off, curving around the massive Senatorial Towers. 

The apprentice was completely aware of his master's mildly hostile position. The Jedi was prepared to swing into action at the slightest provocation. Still, Bali did not sense a threat from the sergeant. The cool winds whipped through his tunic and fanned his dark spike hair back. Up in the air felt good, compared to ducking under walkways in the lower levels. He did not like the lower levels. Up ahead lay the Senate and they were quickly speeding toward it.

Vyer pointed to the HBC News Corporation building as they flew passed. He wagged a finger at the massive news display. "Those jokers. They are hacked because we won't give them any details about this assassin attempt or any of the others. They think you two going after that killer are the assassins. Just because they happen to have cameras pointed at the Towers all times of the day they think they have some exclusive news story." He chuckled to himself as the speeder flew through traffic lanes. "We have internal cameras. The ones in Senator Organa's were messed up with static, but the one in the corridor caught that blackthing attacking the Senator. Sorry about that guard cracking you in the head; says he doesn't know what came over him. Just a little over zealous I guess. Can't really blame him though with everything that has been going on. I bet that hurt, but hey, you are a Jedi, you can shrug that kind of thing off, right?"

"Something like that," Obi-Wan responded. "The Senator–"

"He's alive, I think. Still in surgery. Leave it to HBC to screw that up. Internal communications have been touch and go. I'm surprised the Chancellor could get a message through. Strange things are happening." 

________________________

__

The Book of Quick Actions and Slow Reactions 

"We must move now!" Qui-Gon barked. The tall Jedi cast about, sensing the darkness flowing around the apartment and activated his lightsaber. 

Palpatine slowly stood, carefully eyeing the Jedi. "But my guard–"

"Have proven useless thus far."

"And so has the Jedi's protection," Palpatine shot back. He was forcibly guided from his window view desk to the safer recesses of his office. 

Qui-Gon twisted toward the front door but eased back, when he recognized the presence of his apprentice. 

The young Jedi jogged in from the assistant's office. The glowing blue blade of his lightsaber already activated. "Master! The security are gone."

"The back way, now!" The elder master ordered and he pulled Palpatine toward the back of the office and a private exit. 

"Master!" Anakin cried out.

Like rain, the darkness flooded the room moments before a crimson blade burned through the main entrance door. In a flash of red, the door was gone and Vengier burst into the room. 

Qui-Gon swerved, throwing himself between Palpatine and the Sith. For the life of him, he could not understand why the Chancellor was moving so slow. Seeing his apprentice move to engage the Sith, Qui-Gon turned and nearly scooped the man up as he broke into a sprint through the office.

* * * * *

Vengier rushed the young Jedi driving him backward with a series of deadly strokes. More focused against his enemy, Anakin quickly gained control of the battle.

"The Jedi pup is back," the Sith hissed lashing violently out at the youth.

Anakin vowed to keep the beast's words at bay. He would not fail this time. The young Jedi countered the dark lord's increasingly futile attack. A sharp down stroke caused Vengier to bound back a step sending the dark shroud twisting about revealing a mechanical arm.

"Pretty, isn't?" Vengier growled, pointing a golden skeletal finger toward the Jedi.

* * * * * 

Qui-Gon vaguely caught the exchange between the combatants, before rushing the Chancellor through the corridor and out a nearly hidden door. 

"What was that beast?" Palpatine asked as he tried to twist back and see into the office again.

"A Sith and an assassin," Qui-Gon growled as he hustled the stunned man into a primary corridor. The tall Jedi glanced about but the posted sentries were not there. "We must hurry." He cast out searching for help but the dark Force that had rendered the communicators useless now blocked the Jedi master. For all he could tell, he and the Chancellor were all that remained in the building.

Pulling the reluctant politician around a corner, he was faced by a dozen Senate guards. "Release him!" One of the guards barked as weapons clattered to ready. 

* * * * *

"Arrogant, pup," Vengier hissed, chasing the youth across the common room. "You aline yourself with those bent on destroying you."

"I was born to be a Jedi!" Anakin spat. His mother had given up everything for him to follow his destiny.

"You were born a slave!" 

Incensed by the Sith's words Anakin strove on. At the edge of his thoughts, he could feel his master's calming presence urging him to find peace. Anakin ignored the call as each clash of sabers became more driven by the anger he had fought so long to control.

"How unJedi like!" Vengier delighted in Anakin's growing fury. "I thought Jedi could show no emotion. Feel nothing." The dark lord teased the youth leading him around the room by the tip of the crimson blade. 

With each taunt, Anakin's swing became more erratic. He nearly halved the Chancellor's desk in one fell swoop. The Force swirled in agitation between the combatants. 

The slightest motion of Vengier's hand sent statues and fixtures flying at the young Jedi. 

Using his lightsaber, Anakin cut much of the debris down, but reached out and Force shoved a large statue that had stood near the Chancellor's desk at the Sith.

Vengier ducked under the flying object then lunged at Anakin, swiping at his chest and slicing through the outer layers of his tunic. 

The young man howled and withdrew as pain raged across his torso. 

"Jedi frown on silly emotions. Ask your master. He won't let you love her." Vengier laughed wickedly at the shock in Anakin's eyes. 

The words bit deep into the youth. If being called a slave had wounded him, the thought of being denied Padmé frightened him.

Vengier lashed out again, lightly nicking his shoulder. "Dare you live your life without the one who put light in it?" 

Anakin burned bright.

______________________

__

The Book of Rising Futility

Bali stood up in the speeder as it gracefully glided along the curve of the Senate building. Cool wind brushed through the padawan's hair as the vehicle approached the Supreme Chancellor's private viewing deck. 

Vyer looked to the boy, then to the Jedi master that stood calmly on the hood of the speeder. "That has a high level force field. You'll have to wait until security deactivates–"

"We do not have time," Obi-Wan barked over the rushing wind. The ginger hair blew in the wind, framing the intense blue gaze that fell on the sergeant. "Deliver us to the deck now."

"You can't get in with the force field active," Vyer argued, but reluctantly obeyed the order. He whispered half to himself. "Crazy Jedi thinks he can cut through a level eight force field."

"Master can," Bali said evenly. 

The speeder's slow rise came to a halt and hovered next to the protected viewing deck. The sharp winds whipped the Jedi's tunic around as he reached out and brushed his fingers close to the protected dome. The force field twisted and wavered in the golden afternoon light. His fingers pressed through the protective bubble and a large hole formed. "Come, Padawan," Obi-Wan said.

With no more prompting, Bali bounded out of the patrol speeder and through the temporary opening onto the deck.

Turning back to the stunned Vyer, Obi-Wan nodded. "Thank you for the transportation." Then he too leapt into the opening before it snapped closed. 

Vyer just sat there not sure how to respond to the ease that the Jedi used to circumvent the best security measures ever designed.

* * * * *

Bali chased after his master through the empty corridor. He grabbed his lightsaber and activated it in unison with Obi-Wan. Through the bond, the apprentice sensed worry. He struggled to keep caught up but Obi-Wan was to fast. 

The Jedi stopped just before reaching the first intersection. Pale blue eyes turned to the apprentice. "Find the Chancellor and stay with him," he ordered.

* * * * * 

Certain the boy was heading toward the Chancellor and Qui-Gon along with a concentration of beings, Obi-Wan focused on the swirling dark Force ahead in the elegant office. There was something wrongdifferent. He feared that he would be facing more than one Sith beast.

Bursting through the cutaway door of the assistant's office, Obi-Wan found Vengier and Anakin engaged in battle. To his surprise, he could feel the dark side of the Force emanating perfectly between the two.

The Sith lunged at the young man, striking quickly and robbing Anakin of his balance. The angered apprentice lashed out but his focus was lost allowing the Sith to easily block the wild swings. He was quickly driven backward to the wall.

Weapon ready, Obi-Wan approached the fray. "You prove nothing by beating a mere padawan."

The black masked Sith twisted about. 

Taking advantage of the distraction, Anakin attacked the dark lord, knocking the beast back. "This is my fight," he growled. 

"Back off, Anakin. Your emotions are raging," Obi-Wan said evenly.

"No!" Anakin screamed refusing to step down.

"Assist your master now!" Obi-Wan barked.

Vengier lashed out, the cybernetic fingers gashed Anakin's cheek. The padawan cried out in surprise, retreating a few steps.

The crimson blade sliced through the air and would have ended the youth's life had it not been blocked by a blue saber.

Laughter rippled from the Sith. "My weakness with not get in the way again of killing you, Kenobi," Vengier hissed.

"This is my fight," Anakin yelled slamming Obi-Wan with a powerful Force shove that sent him flying across the room. In a flash, the young man lunged at the Sith, the bright blue blade tore through layers of the shroud.

"You're just an appetizer, pup," Vengier snarled, "Kenobi is the main feast." The red blade grazed Anakin's right shoulder. "I'm saving you Skywalker from a lifetime of broken hearts."

It only made Anakin fight more erratic. 

Obi-Wan leapt to his feet but had to quickly withdraw for concern that he would be impaled by the maddened youth. While Anakin kept Vengier occupied, he silently shifted to the Sith's other side. 

Vengier twisted about, aware of the Jedi's treachery. The wave of a gloved hand sent a fallen statue of rule from the floor smashing into the back of Anakin's head. The stunned apprentice sank to his knees. Drawing the crimson blade back, Vengier prepared to finish the youth off, but just before the blade connected with Anakin's neck, the dark lord spun and caught the Jedi master in a block.

A mask of determination glossed Obi-Wan's features as he easily drove the Sith back from the fallen padawan. He moved quickly, directing the fight, guiding Vengier into a dead end.

"You can't win against the Sith!" Vengier snapped.

The taunts did not cause the Jedi master to falter. The tip of the blue blade clipped the false arm drawing a growl from the shrouded beast. 

"My fight!" Anakin roared leaping into the fray again the young man took a swipe at Obi-Wan slicing into his upper arm.

Ragged breath escaped the exhausted Jedi as he struggled to dampen the pain and regain his bearings.

Vengier easily disarmed Anakin.

The youth barely saved himself from an impaling but could not counter being swept off his feet. The Sith tossed the young man into the wall like a rag doll.

Obi-Wan threw himself at Vengier but had to duck the flashing crimson blade. The Sith lashed out with the remaining flesh and blood arm. Obi-Wan caught the black shrouded wrist in a tight grip. The Force sparked and danced between them before Obi-Wan ripped free of the shrouded figure. "Halla," the Jedi's voice bled softly into the air as the shock sent him stumbling backward. 

Vengier did not retreat, instead, delighted in the Jedi's surprise and raced toward him. Disengaging the glowing red lightsaber, the Sith slammed Obi-Wan across the face, then pinned him against the wall. "I didn't think you would ever figure it out, lover," Vengier hissed. Twisting the silver cylinder about, the dark lord engaged the weapon. 

Obi-Wan shifted just enough to allow the deadly blade to cut harmlessly into the wall. He turned, pushing the shrouded figure back and slammed his elbow into the emotionless black mask. As Vengier fell backward, Obi-Wan called his dropped weapon back, activating it; he drove it down toward the darkness.

"You would kill me!" Vengier asked, rolling free of the attack.

"Halla is dead." He went after the retreating beast.

"Yes," the Sith replied. "From her ashes, Vengier was born. Do you like what you have created?"

Again Anakin had gathered his wits and weapon and rushed the Sith. 

"Anakin!" the Jedi master called out but was ignored.

The dark Force swirled under Vengier's control. The room exploded as the Sith directed the momentum of power. It ripped Anakin from his feet sending him crashing into Obi-Wan. With both Jedi down, Vengier escaped.

* * * * *

"No!" Palpatine demanded as he was pulled away from his Jedi protection made to watch helplessly as Qui-Gon was subdued. The regal older man pointed an agitated finger toward his office. "The assassin is that black shrouded beast in my office!" 

___________________________

__

The Book of Living Nightmares

Bali approached the Chancellor and his security just as they were releasing Qui-Gon. The graying Jedi eyed the apprentice and was relieved to know he and Obi-Wan had arrived safely. 

"Where is your master?" Palpatine asked. 

The little apprentice remained on alert, his unease showing in the defensive hold of his lightsaber while he scanned the surroundings. The Force flowed easily through him as he tipped his chin toward the office. "In there."

In his few encounters with the boy, Qui-Gon had always been impressed by Bali's instinctive use of the Force. A gift usually relegated to young initiates and non-enlightened Force sensitives. And yet, this boy, who had already seen so much in his young life still possessed that innocence to allow the Force to guide him unimpeded by experience and training.

"Your Eminence," Qui-Gon said, turning to face the politician, "your life is still in danger. I suggest–"

Both Jedi spun toward the office sensing the ripples in the Force. 

Immediately, Qui-Gon swept the Chancellor and his guard down the corridor. "Remove the Chancellor to safety now!" From the edge of the master's consciousness, he felt the dark Force flex and lash out. Just for a moment, before the static filled bond with Anakin was strangled to near uselessness, he sensed intense anger.

"Master," Bali half whispered already in motion back down the corridor to the intersection he and Obi-Wan had gone separate ways at.

"No, Bali, come back!" Qui-Gon called out. The darkness was suffocating as it bled into the corridor, drowning out even his impressive Force abilities. 

The Chancellor's private guard quickly evacuated the politician leaving the two Jedi in the hall alone.

Just for a second.

The door that Qui-Gon and Palpatine had escaped from swept open revealing Vengier. The Jedi master reached for his weapon but the Sith was quicker. A flash of crimson and Qui-Gon cried out, sinking to a knee. The dark lord had sliced into his upper thigh and bounded around the injured Jedi. 

At the pained cry, Bali twisted about and froze at the visage of the black shrouded figure of his nightmares racing toward him. 

"No!" The elder master cried out, as he struggled to his feet.

Bali brought his weapon forward. He blocked Vengier's first strike but the Sith was stronger and knocked the saber from the boy's hand. Bright green eyes stared up at the looming shadow. He reached out, calling his weapon back but just as it brushed his fingers, Vengier batted it away and wrapped the gloved hand around the boy's neck. 

"No!" Bali screamed as he struggled against the powerful grip.

"Release him!" Qui-Gon barked, limping into the intersection. 

"Mine," Vengier hissed, tightening her grip around the struggling padawan and retreating down the corridor. With her cybernetic hand, she held her saber against the side of Bali's head. 

The padawan grunted, twisted and elbowed the Sith. "Let me go!" He broke free of Vengier's grip but only made a few steps before the Sith's silver cylinder smashed into the side of his face. As Qui-Gon rushed forward, Vengier scooped the dazed boy up and bolted down the corridor. Entering the protected viewing deck, the crimson blade sliced into the wall severing power conduits. Sparks flew all around the Sith and the captured boy as she raced to the now open deck rail.

Qui-Gon was quickly overtaken and passed by Obi-Wan who sprinted by. 

"Halla, no!" Obi-Wan cried out as he raced onto the deck. 

"Halla's dead, remember?" Vengier leapt to the rail, balancing precariously. The padawan groaned as the Sith shifted him around slightly. "He's mine now." With that, the black shrouded figure and the apprentice fell backward off the deck. 

"Padawan!" Obi-Wan roared as he threw himself at the rail. Before he could go over the edge, something caught him and pulled him back. "Bali!" Obi-Wan cried out struggling against the strong arms that held him.

A hijacked patrol speeder carrying the Sith and Bali zipped away, vanishing into the maddened flow of traffic in the distance. 

"Bali!" Obi-Wan cried out, still fighting to get to the railing. 

"Killing yourself is not going to help him," Qui-Gon whispered as he pulled Obi-Wan back from the edge of the deck. He roughly twisted the younger man around and was stunned by the shear terror reflected in the pale blue eyes. "We will find Bali," he said firmly, hoping to snap Obi-Wan back to the moment. His bond with the younger man was long dead, but he did not need it. Obi-Wan's normally controlled and concealed emotions were raging for anyone to see. "Padawan," he said gently reaching out for Obi-Wan.

Pale blue eyes focused sharply, the chill quickly returning to their stare. "Padawan?" Obi-Wan growled. "Padawan?" The anger in his voice sounded false and wrong to the older Jedi. "You should be concerned about your own padawan. He is dangerous and out of control. An emotional time bomb that was too interested in taking the Sith himself that he allowed her to escape. My padawan is gone because of him."

Qui-Gon was about to argue, to say something but he had felt Anakin's anger before being closed out of the bond. He knew. 

Slowly Obi-Wan walked out onto the deck. He pressed his hands to the intricate patterned rail and gazed out into the city where his padawan had vanished. The grief and concern radiating off the young master was palpable. 

Anakin moved silently into the corridor. Bruises marred his handsome features giving his face a dark look as he glanced about. 

Strangely, the static that had disrupted Qui-Gon's bond with his padawan was gone, but the strangled sensation remained. Anakin was keeping the bond closed down.

In Anakin's hand was his deactivated saber, he twisted it around in mild agitation at the sight of Obi-Wan on the deck. "It got away?" he softly asked. 

"Yes," his master answered.

The look in Anakin's eyes almost made Qui-Gon withdraw a step. "That thing," the apprentice spat, "it was saying–"

The words ceased when he saw Obi-Wan glaring at him. 

"It was my kill," Anakin informed them. 

As Obi-Wan approached the young man, he spoke calm and evenly, "It was not your kill. Your emotions were raging and you were out of control. She disarmed you more than once and nearly killed you several times. You were not emotionally capable of fighting her. You should have backed down as ordered."

"I could have finished it."

Obi-Wan sighed loudly and lightly massaged his temples. "Ended your own life, maybe, but instead you have placed my padawan in danger."

At those last words, Anakin glanced around as if suddenly realizing Obi-Wan's ever present padawan was missing. "He should have stayed out of the way."

"You are a fine one to talk," Obi-Wan snapped, only to have the tall Jedi master step between he and Anakin.

"Enough," Qui-Gon said sternly, exuding absolute authority over his two feuding padawans. He pulled Obi-Wan away from Anakin and forced the younger master to face him. "Listen to me," the elder master demanded. "Listen. Whatever happened, happened. We cannot change that now."

Obi-Wan nodded weakly.

"The only thing of importance is finding the Sith and Bali." It seemed important for him to address the boy by his name; it would calm the severely agitated Obi-Wan.

Mercifully for the moment, Anakin chose to keep his distance while Obi-Wan continued to fall apart. Qui-Gon sensed worry and grief quickly eroding the cool emotionless shell. There was something else, but he could not pin point it and did not have the time to waste. And yet, the concern grew in the elder Jedi. He had known little emotion except the hurt from his former apprentice in years. "Is Bali conscious?" He did not think so, but felt he had to ask. The Force moved as Obi-Wan drew upon it, guiding it in his desperate search for the boy. "If he is unconscious," the elder master said gently, "we will find another way to track the Sith."

Determined blue eyes met the elder master's. "Not awake, not unconscious," Obi-Wan mumbled his thoughts obviously elsewhere. 

"I know you are very protective of him," Qui-Gon said slowly. He noted the lightsaber wound to the younger man's arm and briefly wondered who was responsible. Crushing the thought behind the importance of the moment, he continued, "You have never been separated from Bali before, not like this. All that matters right now is focusing on the bright, shining light at the end of the training bond. Conscious or not you know Bali is there." The tall master silently prayed to the Force that Obi-Wan would find the boy there. He feared what the assassin would do to the boy. 

Obi-Wan visibly relaxed. "They are heading toward the Royal Coruscant Hotel."

Panic washed Anakin's youthful features. "Mother," he half choked throwing himself into motion.

______________________

__

The Book of Terror

The wind was so cold, ripping violently through the layers of Bali's clothing. A soft groan was inspired by the unmerciful pain that radiated through his skull. He remembered the black shrouded creature of his nightmares and then nothing. A small hand pressed to the side of his puffy, bruised face. The Jedi padawan slowly pulled himself into a sitting position in the bench seat of a patrol speeder. The towering buildings and traffic whisked passed at an incredible rate of speed. He glanced around hoping to see the Temple looming up ahead.

There was no Temple. He did not know where he was heading. The city looked so different to his dazed mind. _Master_ Bali called out softly through the training bond for fear if spoken it would make his head hurt worse. 

After receiving no answer, Bali twisted about, but the speed in which the vehicle was moving only made him feel ill. 

"Master?"

He searched the side of his face to make sure his head was completely intact. His vision was a little fuzzy; at least that was what he thought. Squinting, Bali focused on a big black shape in the drivers' seat. Terror rushed through the padawan as he withdrew. 

Fingers searched his utility belt but his lightsaber was gone. The Sith had knocked it away before hitting him. Before sending him into darkness and stealing him from his master. His muffled brain vaguely remembered Obi-Wan calling out just before the Sith escaped. 

Bali leaned over the edge of the speeder and stared down into an impossibly long fall. Sinking back into the speeder, fear laced his thoughts. No, the padawan silently chastised himself, that would do no good. There was no doubt in his mind that his master was searching for him. He had to make it easier to be found. That meant the speeder had to be stopped. Bright green eyes quickly swept around the bench seat but found nothing that could be useful. 

Wind whipped the shrouds about revealing Vengier's emotionless mask. Her attention was focused on guiding the speeding vehicle through the twists and turns of the megalopolis. 

Using the Sith's distraction to his advantage, Bali straightened so he could just look over the front seat. Nothing appeared to be usefulwait. Under the dash, he spied a submission wand. He had seen it used on a trip through the lower levels once. The Coruscant police called them shaker sticks. His master called them a brutal use of authority. The electrically charged baton was used to beat criminals into submission. Hit a being with it enough and they have a seizure, hence the nickname.

He turned back out to the city searching for any familiar landmarks. Pulling at the Force, Bali tried to send a message to his master again but was still blocked. Maintaining his focus, he quickly reached out, calling the shaker stick to his hand. 

Vengier twisted but was not quick enough. Bali drove the charged end into the Sith's back. She howled in pain, lashing out with her mechanical hand. Bali leapt back against the seat so not to be clawed and hit the mechanical arm with the stick. Sparks flew. Vengier slammed the speeder into a motionless hover in the center of several lanes of traffic. The sudden change of momentum sent Bali flying forward and smashing into the windshield. The dark lord grabbed at the stick and Bali's foot shot out connecting with her abdomen. As Vengier fell back, Bali struck her again with the shaker stick. Another pained howl ripped through the Sith. The cybernetic hand reached out for Bali again, but the earlier contact with the stick had damaged it and the fingers did not function properly. 

"Bad, Padawan!" Vengier growled, springing up and landing on the boy. Bali struggled to hit the beast with the stick but Vengier just laughed. "You remind me of your master. A real pain!"

Bali grunted as he struggled to hit Vengier with the stick but the Sith was too strong. 

"Pretty green eyes," Vengier hissed. "What if I pluck one of them out to remind you of your place, Padawan?"

"Not your padawan!" With the Force aiding his strength he hit the Sith, knocking her backward. 

Vengier backhanded Bali sending him smashing into the dash. Through the windshield, he saw the first recognizable landmark, the Royal Coruscant Hotel. He struggled to remain clear and send a message to his master but something continued to block him and he could not tell if the message was receive.

He wished his master were there. 

Bali kicked out, his reddish, Bantha leather book smashed into one of Vengier's black boots, slamming down on the power pedal. The speeder jerked forward, pitching both occupants to the back. In the melee, Bali lost hold of the shaker stick. He quickly twisted about, seeing it he called it to his hand. 

Vengier was quicker, snatching it out of the air. 

The thirteen-year-old shrieked in pain as the stick caught him across the shoulders. Tears sprang to his eyes as it smashed into his arm. The pain rippled through his nervous system. He could not breathe for all the screaming. Vengier mercilessly struck him repeatedly. His nerves were on fire and he was helpless to get away from the attack. 

"You will learn obedience," Vengier demanded as she jammed the stick into Bali's side. 

His throat was torn raw with pain filled cry as he jerked and twisted into a little ball. Tear glazed eyes stared at the blackness of Vengier's shroud. The Sith brought her arm back to deliver another blow, but Bali reacted. Imitating Vengier's ease at disarming him, he batted the stick out of the gloved hand sending it soaring out of the speeder and into the city below. 

Every inch of him was trembling as Bali struggled to get back from the menacing beast. He hurt so badly. "Leave me alone," the injured, helpless boy stuttered. 

"Never, little padawan." Vengier swooped forward and from the shroud pulled a vibroshiv. "You will learn your place." She tightened her grip around Bali's padawan braid and yanked it, eliciting a yelp. "First we must get rid of this." With barely a tug, Vengier had severed the ginger tip of the braid. Then grabbing the boy's tunic, she tossed him over into the front passenger seat. Leaping over into the pilot's seat, she powered the speeder up and continued on her journey.

________________________

Book of Flesh and Bone Part X

__

Playful laughter echoed about the stone streets of the Xim village of Cheya. The small, orange skinned younglings giggled as they played space pirate chasing one another toward a small park. Behind them, Halla Keizian was happily dragged along by a trailing group of younglings. 

Small, three-fingered hands clutched her cloak and tugged on her long skirt. The half dozen younglings that followed her called her name out playfully in their fluid Ximi tongue. 

"Yes, yes, I am coming," the dark haired woman said happily, then repeated her statement in Ximi.

Little voices sang her name as they led her to the park with newly built playground equipment. A young girl with her shock of white hair tried back into intricate knots grabbed Halla's hand and guided her to a nearby swing. Compared to the extensive play equipment, the girl was so tiny that Halla had to help her up and made sure she had a hold of the deep blue rope. "Mai kuro, Di'alo" Halla warned the little girl before giving her a light push.

"Ka nee!" Di'alo squealed in her native tongue. With the prompting, Halla gave the girl a harder push sending her out further. "Ka nee!" 

Halla paused and glanced around the park, studying the younglings running about the red soil. Their game still involved pirates, but other young ones with sticks pretending to be heroic Jedi chased the evil mock pirates away. 

"Ka nee!" came another excited squeal. 

The young woman gave the little girl a gentle push then turned to study the park again. "I know you are out there," she called out, emphasizing the cultured core accent she had allowed to slip over the years away from the Temple. When no reply came, she frowned and returned her attention to the group of younglings that clamored around her. The Xim young were all so small. She loved to brush her fingers through the white bristly hair. Large black eyes that watched her happily made her feel so wonderful. She wished they were all hers. 

A boy with a white mohock broke free of Halla's little group and bolted over the red soil before skidding to a halt. "Lo ha empira jeeti," he whispered in awe of the brown cloaked figure that stood before him.

Hearing the familiar word, Halla twisted and smiled at the sight of Obi-Wan staring down at the small boy. "His name is Tolomy and he loves Jedi stories."

Obi-Wan looked uncertain at the adoring glow of the little boy who stared up at him. He tried to step around the short Xim youngling but the boy followed. "I suppose you entertain him with all sorts of tales?" 

"Empira jeeti," the boy whispered reverently as he followed the knight.

"Of course," Halla smiled as she continued to push Di'alo in the swing. "I would not think you would show yourself. If they knew a Jedi is here–"

"It would make no difference in the mission."

"Oh." 

"Empira Jeeti," Tolomy cooed to the other youths drawing their attention.

"They have never seen a real Jedi knight before."

"What about you?"

Halla frowned. "I am not a Jedi. Nor does my husband pretend to play the part. You are the only Jedi here." The young woman became silent the moment Obi-Wan shrugged into the folds of his cloak fighting a phantom chill. She had known something was wrong the moment her husband had introduced them. "Our chef is preparing a glorious meal tonight. You will join us."

"Thank you, Lady Keizian, but no."

The young woman frowned and glanced away. "You will be busy?"

"Yes."

"Oh." She did not look back at the knight.

"Ka nee!" Di'alo playfully demanded. 

Obeying the youngling's squeal Halla sent the swing back into action. "What do you think of the playground?"

Obi-Wan looked about but said nothing.

"I had it built for the little ones. After all, with the colony taking up such a great space on their world I thought I should at least give something back."

"And Master Trocha condones this?"

Halla twisted revealing the fierceness in her green eyes. "You act like he is my keeper." She softened her expression at Obi-Wan's embarrassed look. "No, you wouldn't understand. He is my husband. A concept the Order tried to breed out of us. I am independent." She reached out to Tolomy and lightly brushed her fingers through the white brush of hair. "I do as I please. I have people to transport my special needs."

"Smugglers?"

"Whatever it takes to achieve my goals." She smiled gently. "I would do anything to provide for them."

Di'alo jumped out of the swing and slammed into Halla nearly knocking both of them to the ground. She picked up the girl and held her in loving arms. "These are my children. They are all the children I can have."

"Halla, I am sorry."

"Are you?"

Obi-Wan offered her a curious look but said nothing. Instead, he shifted about, studying the sky, the distant trees, the city around them before finally turning back to the younglings that had gathered close. They watched him as if he were suddenly going to do something amazing.

Smiling softly, Halla carried Di'alo deeper into the park. She did not need to glance back. The younglings would make sure the knight followed. Little three-fingered hands tugged on Obi-Wan's cloak pulling him with them. "Do they make you uncomfortable?" Halla asked, spinning about to face the Jedi.

"I am not used to children."

"I used to love spending my free time in the crèche. Well, at least until my master found out and said it was unhealthy. I think I would have enjoyed being a crèche supervisor."

"You seem fit for it," Obi-Wan replied slowly as he gently tried to extricate himself from the young Xim. 

"I would have been a good mother." She paused to hug Di'alo who purred happily in the loving arms that held her. The young woman whispered softly in Ximi into the orange skinned girl's ear opening causing Di'alo to burst into giggles. 

"Whu ta empira jeeti," Di'alo laughed as she turned her black eyes toward Obi-Wan. "Mi tee! Mi tee!"

Obi-Wan shifted still trying to free himself of the gathered younglings. Tolomy led the charge to keep the Jedi imprisoned as he kept blocking Obi-Wan's attempts to get away. "Empira jeeti," the little Xim whispered. 

The tiny Di'alo wrapped her arms around Halla's neck, hugging her. The former Jedi studied the knight for a time. "I sometimes wonder if the baby would have had my green eyes, or your blue."

A simple question that brought a questioning look to Obi-Wan's pale blue stare. 

Halla smiled. "I don't think I have ever felt the Force move like that around you, although I have to admit it is different than when we were padawans."

"What?"

"Oh, don't look at me like that. The high and mighty Jedi Council could not have blocked parental urges. You always knew but the Order was more important."

The knight shook his head as if trying to make sense of her words.

"The question that has always bothered me was did you understand what you were feeling or did you refuse to believe it to justify finishing your training?"

"What?"

"Don't tell me you suddenly became deaf." She frowned. 

Obi-Wan marched through the younglings, not allowing them to hold him back. His cool gaze shot to Di'alo.

"She only speaks Xim," Halla said softly. "Doesn't understand a word we are saying." 

"Halla–"

Di'alo cooed as she reached out for the knight. "Mi tee!" Surprise clouded the tiny Xim's face when Obi-Wan withdrew from her reach. 

"No," Obi-Wan answered firmly. "No."

"Our baby would have been about seven now," Halla continued, not caring if it hurt him. She had hurt for years. It was his turn. "I think it was a boy, he would have been beautiful just like his father." The young woman reached for the knight.

Still stunned, Obi-Wan retreated from her touch. 

"But don't worry, my dear Obi." She offered a gentle smile before carrying the little girl over to a nearby bench. "My husband has a powerful benefactor funding his research. Ighista is working on something to fix all the damage the Jedi caused. Everything will be all right." 

_______________________

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The Book of Racing Destiny

A fast and furious pace marked Anakin's journey across the cityscape toward the Royal Coruscant Hotel. It was perilous to anyone who would get in the youth's way. The patrol speeder he had roughly relieved Sergeant Vyer of zipped through the veins of traffic and punched through the deep arteries of the city. His breath came in quick, short gasps taking in the cool air that made his lungs ache. 

The only thing that mattered was getting back to his mother. He had just been reunited with her. There were so many questions; so many things he wanted–no, needed–to know. He had wanted to become a Jedi to free the slaves, his mother, but that did not happen fast enough. 

His training had drawn on and although he had often asked his master to allow him to see that his mother was safe it was never allowed. Still the warm place in his mind that had always been Mother had been all right. He knew, deep down that she was okay. Even when life always seemed to get in the way and keep him from making that sworn to journey, he knew.

Now fate and an annoying woman brought her to him.

All Anakin wanted was to tell her how vast the world had grown. He wanted to show her that there was so much more than just the sandy world she had always known. Fear radiated through him knowing it was all on the verge of crashing down. 

It was in the formless, unsettling feeling that he was powerless to control but he knew it existed. With every passing moment, he could sense the danger to his mother increase. The urgency just made the young man press the patrol speeder harder. The Force swirled around him wildly as he used it to bolster his speed. The Royal Coruscant Hotel loomed in the distance, vanishing into the clouds. 

Anakin had spent half his life learning to protect. What was it worth if he could not even protect his own mother?

That Sith beast would have been dead if Obi-Wan had not interfered.

Force enhanced reflexes barely saved Anakin from crashing as he careened onto a loading platform narrowly missing another patrol speeder hovering off to the edge. He was out of the speeder before it had come to a complete stop and was racing into the building. 

The strange feeling of dread bloomed in to terror as the quiet link with his mother exploded in pain. 

"Mom!" The young man roared as he tore through the hotel toward the suite he had left what felt like a lifetime ago. Lightsaber in hand, the blue blade slashed through the door impatient to be granted entry. Inside the youth just stopped. 

Padmé lay unconscious in the middle of the floor; a deep gash and thick stream of blood marred her beautiful face. He reached out with the Force, instantly verified that she was unconscious but otherwise undamaged. 

A shadow in the Force drew the padawan's attention and he bounded after it. Tearing around a corner, the weight of his fear came crashing down sending him to his knees. "Mom!"

Vengier's emotionless black mask was all he could see at first, then the Sith pulled away its flowing black shroud. Black gloved fingers dug into the sun worn skin of Shmi's neck. She pulled the older woman a few steps beyond Anakin's reach.

"Please," the young Jedi begged. He could hardly pull his gaze away from Shmi's terror filled eyes. But he did. 

Shmi's pale blue tunic was washed dark red from the blood that gushed out of the gaping wound in her chest. A metal shard jutted from the wound and glinted in the light as Vengier backed up, dragging the dying woman across the floor. "You want your Mommy, Jedi Pup?"

"Leave her alone," Anakin half cried, paralyzed by the vision before him. "Please."

"Should have stayed out of the way, boy. Should have let Kenobi kill me!" Vengier hissed, letting loose a round of wicked laughter as she clasped the durasteel shard, digging it deeper into Shmi's chest.

The newly freed slave gasped in pain. Her voice was thin, "Ani–"

Charged by the dying of the parental bond, Anakin leapt to his feet lunging at the Sith. Vengier ripped the shard from Shmi's chest and pitched it through the air. The jagged edge slice deep into Anakin's arm. The youth wailed in pain as he gripped the wound. In his distraction, Vengier dropped Shmi and escaped.

"Mom!" Caring nothing for the fleeing Sith, Anakin fell to Shmi's side, scooping her limp form into his arms. "No, I just found you again. You can't die. Mom!" No matter what he did, no matter how loud he cried or how easily the Force spoke to him, there was nothing he could do to will Shmi's spirit back to her body. "Mom," he sobbed softly hugging the still form close.

__________________

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The Book of Trying

Biting back a whimper, Bali shifted in the back seat of the patrol speeder. All of his muscles ached and trembled but it was getting better. Not fast enough though. The small apprentice sat up in the speeder and slowly opened his eyes. Fuzzy vision stared out into the bright afternoon. He could sort of make out the distant traffic lines.

Something bright was careening toward him. Frozen in place, Bali braced himself against the big shiny blurry thing that was about to smash into him. When nothing jarring happened, the padawan glanced out and squinted making out the shape of a speeder hovering next to his.

Bali twisted about the speeder again, trying to make out his surroundings. The hijacked patrol speeder hovered on a landing platform but he did not know where. The only good thing was there was no sign of the Sith beast. But for how long?

__

Master?

There was no answer and it frightened him. Reaching through the training bond, he could sense his master's presence but there was something blocking him. The padawan frowned wishing his master would hurry up and find him. He would just have to wait patientlyin the speeder.

If the monster came back and took off, his master would never find him. 

Shaking his head, Bali tried clear the mushiness that still had control of him. He did not have time to waste, so the apprentice tried to climb out of the vehicle but discovered his shackled wrists. The binders emitted a low frequency force field that kept them hovering close to a silver box built into the center of the speeder. 

It was designed to detain criminals but not made for Force users. Imagining what his master would do in such a situation, Bali tried to manipulate the force field. It twisted and shifted but did not release his imprisoned wrists. After struggling for far too long, Bali gave up, sinking deeper into the seat. In frustration, he tugged on the binders but they were held steadily in place.

Every little movement made him painfully aware of the chopped padawan braid that dangled uncomfortably against his jaw. It was no longer long enough to lay against his shoulder like it was supposed to.

What kind of a padawan was he that could loose his braid? Obviously not a very good one. In frustration he struggled wildly against his bonds and kicked at the speeder's interior. A booted foot smashed through a panel on the wall. The dark haired boy stopped and stared at the damage he had created, noticing a power conduit. 

Casting out, Bali followed the conduit through the craft's innards to the power source. He mentally pushed at it upsetting the system's balance causing the power to fluctuate wildly. A series of small explosions rocked the speeder as conduits were fried in the resulting power surges.

The field around the binders flickered but did not allow the boy to break free so he pushed harder.

A thundering explosion caused the speeder to shudder and drop to the platform. The power quickly bled from the system and force field failed. 

Using the Force as his master had taught him, Bali guided it into the binder locking mechanisms. With a snap, the binders came undone and Bali tossed them into the seat. Free, the padawan shakily crawled out of the speeder but only made a few steps before something grabbed a hold of him. 

______________________

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The Book of Escapes

The black shrouded figure glided through the corridor toward the service pad. She would be on her way back to her master in a just a few more steps. The boy was safe in the patrol speeder and when her master got what information he wanted from the pretty child, then he would be hers to play with. 

"You monster!" Blue flashed only to be caught by Vengier's crimson blade. Obi-Wan twisted about, breaking free of the Sith's block. Lightsabers crackled as they connected in fierce battle. 

"Monster?" She teased as she drove the Jedi Master back. "Is that what you think I am?" She spun, driving her weapon down but it was easily deflected. A quick glance about the empty corridor proved there was nothing to call to her aid. In desperation, she Force pushed the Jedi back. 

Obi-Wan responded with a fiercer attack. Controlling the fight, he drove the beast back into the hotel, away from the platform. "Yes," he growled. 

"I cared once," Vengier shot back but did not slow her attempts at cutting through the Jedi's defenses. She could not keep this up for long. Obi-Wan easily disarmed her sending the saber hilt flying across the corridor. Bounding forward, Vengier ducked and called the weapon to her hand. In a flurry of black, she jammed the silver cylinder against the master's injured arm. Obi-Wan stumbled and groaned, falling back a step. With the moment of distraction, the shrouded figure shoved Obi-Wan out of the way. "I do not have time for this," she barked and bolted back toward the landing platform. 

* * * * *

Bali cried out as he was ripped away from the speeder. "No!"

"Hush," Qui-Gon whispered, holding tight to the struggling youth. When panicked green eyes finally focused on him, the elder Jedi whispered, "We must get out of here."

The apprentice wavered slightly, glancing about the platform. Finally he nodded and tried to follow Qui-Gon's quick pace. "Where's my master?" Bali asked softly as his step became unsteady. 

Qui-Gon turned just in time to catch the boy before he collapsed, quickly scooping up the small form. The boy's weariness radiated and made the Jedi wonder what happened en route to the Royal Coruscant. All he could see were the bruises marring Bali's sleepy features. 

The dark haired head fell against Qui-Gon's cloaked shoulder as Bali sighed weakly. "It stole my braid." Dark brows knitted together in pain then relaxed. "I didn't mean to loose it."

"It can be repaired," Qui-Gon whispered as he raced toward a service entrance. 

____________________

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The Book of Anger

Vengier burst onto the landing pad and stumbled at the sight of the patrol speeder sitting dormant on the pad. She spun to face the approaching Obi-Wan. "You again." 

The Jedi swiped his lightsaber through the air, preparing to face the beast again. Engaging Vengier, he forced the Sith away from the two patrol speeders. The blue blade sliced into the black shroud inspiring a growl. The Sith's cybernetic hand lashed out, but missed the Jedi. 

"Did you come all this way for your padawan? He has your tenacity but I will break him of that soon enough." Vengier inquired, bounding out of the deadly blade's reach. "You're so protective of him. How sweet, but the boy is mine now." Upping the attack Vengier pushed the Jedi back to the waiting speeders. Her master was waiting. She sensed he was getting impatient.

The fight was moving too fast, keeping Vengier occupied as she struggled but allowed the Jedi to push her toward the waiting speeders. Obi-Wan thrust the blade at her but the Sith leapt backward far out of his reach. When the Jedi moved to intercept, Vengier twisted, moving quickly and driving the red blade toward the Jedi's exposed back. 

Obi-Wan bounded out of the way slashing deep into the folds of Vengier's cloak shredding the lower half. The material dragged hindering her movement bit the she never gave him an opening. 

Vengier freed the torn material and whipped it out at Obi-Wan, catching him across the face. With the Jedi momentarily disoriented, the dark lord tackled him slamming him into the cab of the damaged patrol speeder. 

The impact sent the vehicle scraping toward the edge of the platform as Vengier leapt on top of Obi-Wan brandishing her lightsaber. The crimson blade was expertly turned about and driven down on the trapped Jedi.

Kicking free the black shroud that he was tangled up in Obi-Wan pitched it at Vengier and shifted just saving himself from being impaled. As Vengier drove the saber deep into the speeder's seat, Obi-Wan grasped the hilt, using the Force to momentarily pin it into place. 

The instant Vengier's grip slipped the Jedi pitched the weapon over the side and into the depths of the city planet. Without hesitation, Vengier went for Obi-Wan's lightsaber. They struggled as the blue blade waved about in the approaching Coruscant evening. 

Vengier's clawed fingers, real and faux, dug deep into Obi-Wan's bare hands tearing the flesh. Warm blood slicked the handle as the two continued to battle for control of the lightsaber. In the middle of the fight, she became distracted, glancing about the vehicle. "The child got away!" the beast hissed.

This brought a tense smile to Obi-Wan's lips. He twisted slightly, freeing his hand. The drawn fist connected with the black mask. There was a loud crack and for a moment Obi-Wan did not know if it was the mask or his knuckles that broke as fiery hot pain shot up his arm. 

Part of the mask broke away, tumbling over the edge of the craft. 

Obi-Wan froze.

A glassy green eye surrounded with mottled, scar-riddled skin stared out. 

"Halla?" The Jedi just stared up at the broken mask that only partially covered Halla's face. 

"So high and mighty, just like your precious Jedi Council." She twisted the saber around. "My master will be angry for loosing the boy but I will bring him a better present."

Reminded of Bali, Obi-Wan was invigorated, he struggled, sending the lightsaber tumbling to the speeder floor. He reached out for it but a blow to the face disrupted his concentration. He tried to shake off the Sith but Vengier would not have it. From the layers of her shroud, the Sith revealed the vibroshiv she had used to relieve Bali of his braid.

In the struggle, Vengier sliced deep into Obi-Wan's forearm before he could shove her back. 

Vengier laughed with a raspy, human voice. "You surprise me, I didn't know you could bleed."

"Sith witch!" With lightning quick reflexes, Obi-Wan grasped Vengier's shroud and threw the dark lord into the front seat. He leapt over pinning the Sith and her hand that held the vibroshiv down. "What made you a cold hearted beast?"

"You did!" She twisted about shaking the broken mask loose revealing her partially burn scarred face. "You left me lying on the landing pad. You left me!" 

Obi-Wan struggled against the maddened woman. "You were dead."

"Liar! My master told me you were responsible for my husband's research being destroyed. You robbed me of my happiness." Vengier drove the vibroshiv down stabbing Obi-Wan in the shoulder. The Jedi howled to Vengier's delight. 

Using her distraction, Obi-Wan slammed the shrouded figure with his boot. The Sith's wicked laughter turned to a cry of pain as she was thrown out of the speeder. 

Calling his saber to him, Obi-Wan leapt out of the speeder going after the fallen Sith. Blue flashed but the winded Sith rolled out of the way, flipping over the Jedi and backhanding him. Obi-Wan was thrown off balance, crashing into the other speeder. The hovering craft glided close to the edge. The Jedi's lightsaber rolled across the landing platform. Both lunged for the fallen weapon, but Vengier landed a swift kick to the Jedi's chest sending him over the ledge. 

Ragged breath escaped Vengier as she stared out over the ledge Obi-Wan had fallen over. Gently reaching out, she called Obi-Wan's lightsaber to her and studied the weapon. It may not be his heart but it was a start. 

The shroud wafted about as Vengier approached the ledge. She stared down at the city far below. No sign of the Jedi but she was not stupid enough to believe she had so easily rid the universe of him. 

_____________________

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The Book of Unhappy Moments

"It's okay, Mom. It's okay," Anakin repeated like a mantra as he continued to hold Shmi's still form close. Arms gently cradled her while he rocked. "Mom, please. I just found you, you can't leave me."

Qui-Gon had watched for some time from the edge of the room. From his vantagepoint he could see his apprentice and still check up on Bali who mercifully remained unconscious in a large, overstuffed chair in a small sitting room. He had figured that Anakin did not need anymore emotional burdens in his moment of grief. But the young man's continual rocking of his mother was worrying him so he limped to the distraught apprentice. "Padawan," he gently whispered as he knelt a meter away. 

Slowly, Anakin looked up through tear rimmed eyes. The elder Jedi did not think he had felt such emotional pain in his apprentice. Anakin had not hurt this much when at nine he left his mother to become a Jedi. 

"I shouldn't have left," the padawan half cried. "I should have stayed and protected her." Anger flushed his face as he gripped the cold body closer. "I should have killed the Sith," he growled through clenched his teeth. "I wanted to kill it! But Obi-Wan wouldn't let me. I should have killed it. Mom would still be alive." 

"No, Anakin." Qui-Gon reached out. "This is no one's fault."

Unchecked fury danced in the bright blue depths of Anakin's eyes as he withdrew, pulling Shmi's body with him. "Leave me alone," he replied warily. "I want to be alone."

"Anakin–"

"Go!"

Sighing loudly, for once not knowing how to respond, Qui-Gon obeyed, but only retreated a step. Straightening he tested his wounded leg. It was not as deep as it could have been but it still slowed him. The gray haired Jedi studied the room, finally allowing his gaze to fall on the grim and bloodied senator in the corner. 

Padmé looked up sadly. "Master Jinn, I didn't mean any harm. Miss Thelo and I just wanted to do something kind. Her family paid to free Shmi." There was silence as she twisted her hands together in her lap. "She found and brought her here. We didn't mean any harm."

The Jedi master imperiously folded his arms across his chest but his tone remained soft and focused on Padmé. "I do not begrudge you this act of kindness. I am sure Shmi appreciated it, but why bring her to Coruscant?"

"So Ani could see her. She _is_ his mother," Padmé said sternly, her anger drowning out her own sadness. Or more likely, as Qui-Gon decided, her hurt for Anakin, he could see it in the determined young woman's gaze. She never took it from the apprentice.

"This sort of interaction is forbidden by the Order." His own irritation threatened to show through. The senator's silly game may have just made his grasp of his padawan all that more tenuous.

"That is what Ani said. Jira and I thought it was cruel."

"There are reasons," Qui-Gon said evenly. He turned back to study his wounded, broken apprentice.

"Because she was a distraction to him," Padmé said coldly glaring at the Jedi master.

"Because it puts their lives in danger."

The harshness slipped from her face with the calm understanding of his words. Silently she stood and strode passed the Jedi master. Stopping to Anakin's side, she dropped to her knees and wrapped her arms around his shoulder. 

Qui-Gon was left to watch his apprentice's grateful acceptance of the interloper. 

________________________

__

The Book of the Damaged

It hurt too much to move. It also hurt too much not to move. A low groan escaped the Jedi as he twisted slightly to stare out into the Coruscant landscape. Helpless, he watched the highjacked patrol speeder bolt toward the myriad of traffic lines. Tiredly, Obi-Wan allowed his head to sink to the grated floor of the service deck below the landing platform.

A tiny maintenance droid, no larger than a fist whirred about, beeping and chirping in agitation at the fallen Jedi. 

After nearly being killed by a maddened Halla turned Sith. Falling off the landing pad then nearly having his arm ripped out of its socket by trying to catch the lip of the service deck he couldn't even get a moment of peace and quiet to wish he was dead. 

The droid's green paint was scraped and its oblong shaped body was dinged and dented. It looked about like it had suffered the same bad day Obi-Wan had. One of its two sensor antennas was broken off causing it to list to one side as it floated about, still chirping at the Jedi. 

"I know, I know," Obi-Wan groaned. "I'm not supposed to be on the service level." He slowly sat up and bumped his head on a low support. Shaking the mild pain off, he brushed his fingers through his sweat dampened ginger hair. 

Still chirping and whistling at him, the tiny droid began to butt against the Jedi in a comically in vain attempt to push him over the edge of the deck. The Jedi swatted at the annoying droid causing it to retreat into an alcove. After a moment, the droid flew out and attacked the Jedi only to be roughly swatted away again. 

Quickly scanning the support systems, Obi-Wan spied a ladder that looked to lead up to the landing pad. Pushing the droid out of the way, he crawled toward an open space where he could at least crouch. 

Chirping wildly, the maintenance droid continued its assault, extending a small arm from an opening in its dented casing and jabbed the Jedi in his wounded shoulder. A small yelp escaped Obi-Wan as he jerked and hit his head on the low ceiling. A cheerful series of beeps ripped through the little green droid. It moved in again.

Reaching out, Obi-Wan wrapped his hand around the oblong green form and sent a pulse through the Force. A pained whistle escaped the little droid as sparks shot out the side. It dropped to the grated floor with a clang. A soft warbled beep then its lights went dim. 

Obi-Wan was halfway up the ladder when the droid gave another wounded chirp. He stopped and stared at the pesky little droid then with a resigned sigh climbed down and scooped it up. The least he could do was hand it over to maintenance to be repaired, preferably after he was long gone.

Up on the landing pad, Obi-Wan turned his attention to the damaged patrol speeder abandoned at the edge of the pad. The only consolation in knowing that Vengier escaped to continue her reign of terror was at least Bali was safe. Drawing his attention away from the maddened woman, he focused his thoughts on his padawan. He needed to get to the boy to make sure he was all right. 

Walking to the nearest door, Obi-Wan noted a small army of red maintenance droids pouring out of a panel in the side of the building. They were much larger than the little green one he held onto. The fleet of red quickly swept in and started repairing the damage his battle with Vengier had caused. 

Inside, the corridors were packed with Senate security and Jedi. Their presence did not stop him as he continued toward the bright shining light of his padawan. 

Just about to the room, the Jedi came across a large Bothan who was directing the repairs inside the hotel. The maintenance director gave Obi-Wan a sharp look and growled, "I've cleaned up riots that caused less damage than a couple of you Jedi."

Obi-Wan just frowned and held out the small green droid he had been carrying.

The Bothan shook his head in disbelief. "Leave it to one of your kind to find the only rogue P37 in the entire building. Toss it in the nearest recycle shute. The P37s are too independent and aren't content to doing what they are told to. We upgraded to Y10s about three years ago. They follow orders." He jutted a large finger at the green droid. "That thing is obsolete scrap." With that, the director marched off. 

Left in the corridor, Obi-Wan studied the droid that was little more than a handful. Its one remaining sensor antenna dangled lifelessly over the Jedi's fingers. He just did not feel right just throwing it away. Then again he could have fried its circuits and turned the maintenance droid into an ugly ornament. Certainly, he could do something with the tenacious little droid. 

__________________________

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The Book of Relief

Tightening his grip around the damaged droid, Obi-Wan drew his shields tight and straightened slightly before approaching the secured apartment.

Two burly, heavily armed security officers blocked the door, but it was not them that had Obi-Wan's concern. Qui-Gon and a long time friend, Master Grya E'tulo stood speaking softly. The young master suddenly felt like a padawan who just got caught doing something he was not supposed to do. 

Stopping before the two respected masters, Obi-Wan tucked the little green droid behind his back and formally bowed.

The black haired Master Grya returned the bow. "Seems we can call off the search party."

"Where is the Sith?" Qui-Gon asked.

"Gone. Escaped." Obi-Wan paused to carefully rub his aching shoulder. The wound was not as deep as it could have been which left him to wonder whether that was Halla's intention or not. There were more important things to worry about now. "Where's Bali?"

"In the sitting room," Qui-Gon answered softly. "He is all right."

Obi-Wan nodded. A soft chirp sounded from behind the Jedi.

"What was that?" Grya asked.

Slowly the young Jedi pulled the small green maintenance droid out from behind his back. It whistled but otherwise remained motionless. "We had a little confrontation but I am not sure who won."

Grya gave Qui-Gon a knowing look but Obi-Wan did not pay it any attention. He entered the apartment and began searching for his missing padawan. Emanating from the main room, he could feel intense grief and carefully steered clear. The last thing he wanted to do was interfere with whatever was going on, especially when he was certain death by the Sith assassin was involved.

At the sight of the dark brown spiked head, his breath hitched. Even in the dim lighting, Obi-Wan could see Bali's bruised face but the boy remained in a peaceful slumber on a low couch. With renewed energy, the Jedi raced over to the curled up boy. "Padawan," he whispered happily, finding a place on the edge of the chair for both he and the little droid. "Padawan," he gently urged. Gently hands search the boy for obvious injury while he used the Force to make certain. He lightly brushed across a bruised cheek eliciting a mumble before the padawan shifted deeper into the corner of the couch. Through the training bond, he probed Bali's shields and was relieved that the boy was relatively undamaged. "Come on, Padawan, open your eyes."

Bali groaned.

Breathing easier, the master eased off slightly and gently brushed his fingers through the mashed spikes. A callused finger brushed over the bruised cheek, and lightly adjusted the severed padawan braid.

"It stole my braid," Bali said softly, never opening his eyes. 

"Not all of it."

Bali huffed and opened bright green eyes to his master. Unhappily he reached up and tugged on the abrupt end of the braid. "Its never been this short! It was like I was dreaming it happen and I couldn't stop it."

"And we will fix it," Obi-Wan said gently. 

The boy gave a little nod. "Yes, Master." But worry never left his features. "I messed up big time, lost my braid and got caught."

"It happens to the best of us," Obi-Wan softly reassured. "You must accept that it happened and learn from it so you can be prepared next time."

"Yes, Master." Still the troubled look clouded Bali's eyes. "Master?"

"Yes, Padawan?"

Bali reached up and pressed his hand to the blood stained material covering Obi-Wan's shoulder. "You are hurt."

The master nodded slightly. "It's okay for now. She hit you pretty hard." He studied the boy's bruised face, noting the slight tremor in his hands.

"It was mad after I zapped it with a shaker stick." He gave a proud little smile, but then it faded. "The I lost the stick and the monster beat me with it." The padawan shifted uneasily in the chair. "Kept calling me its padawan."

"Never going to happen," Obi-Wan said evenly. "Never." Closing his eyes and breathing deeply and dispelled the flare of anger into the Force. That Sith beast was not Halla, she would never have beaten a child. 

From its place on the couch, the little green maintenance droid gave a warbled whistle. 

Bali looked to Obi-Wan curiously. "Master?"

A slight flush fell to Obi-Wan's cheeks. Slowly, he reached down and picked up the broken droid. It gave another pained beep. The older Jedi roughly shoved the oblong shaped object into a surprised Bali's hands. "We will get it repaired and sent someplace where it can do whatever it is supposed to do."

"You broke it, didn't you?" Bali asked suspiciously. He turned the battered green shape around and lightly fingered the broken antenna. 

"It was in the way."

"Master, it's just a little PodBot. You could have just shut it down." Bali turned the droid over and pointed to a small, natural indention in the belly. "On/off switch. Most droids have them."

"I'll try next time." Obi-Wan was just happy to see that Bali was not overly traumatized by his encounter. The glowing little padawan was all ready snapping back to his old self.

Bali giggled, still studying the broken droid. "You are going to get a bad reputation among droids."

Playfully, the Jedi reached out and ruffled the mess of brown spikes inciting even more laughter. Bali hugged the droid close and fell against his master's shoulder. Obi-Wan wrapped his arms around the boy. "It will be all right," he softly promised. He was tired and sore but it did not matter, as long as Bali was safe. Movement at the edge of the room drew Obi-Wan's attention. He met Qui-Gon's gaze and gave a little smile. "Thank you," he said softly.

Wordlessly, Qui-Gon bowed.

__________________________

Book of Flesh and Bone Part XI

__

Everything about this mission bothered Obi-Wan. He couldn't place it but he knew something was wrong. The Force echoed his concern putting the Jedi even more on guard. 

After he had completed landing procedures and taken a few moments to gather himself, he triggered the loading ramp. Fingers wrapped tight around the edges of his cloak and tugged, seeking that bit of warmth before he had to put on the mask of a serene Jedi knight. Pulling his hood up, Obi-Wan slowly descended to the private landing platform at the edge of the Calor Science and Engineering Colony on the planet Xim. From under the brown hood, he studied the small port. It was relatively quiet but it was because this was secondary to the primary landing on the far side of the colony where supplies arrived. This pad was for private use by those who could afford the high port costs.

In this case, the honor belonged to the tall man at the edge of the platform in royal blue and gold clothing. His glossy black hair was tied back and waved over the elegantly cut coat. Eyes the color of a Tatooine sunset gazed uncertainly at the new arrival. Several heavily armed men stood at a distance carefully eying the situation. The Jedi was positive they would protect their patron at any cost. 

Obi-Wan stopped just a few feet from the base of the loading ramp just before the man and formally bowed. "Master Trocha."

"It has been a long time since anyone called me that," the man said in a deep, rich core accent.

"I am Obi-Wan Kenobi–"

Trocha laughed. "They sent us a padawan?"

Without word, Obi-Wan removed his hood exposing weary eyes and bearded face. 

Trocha grew silent, after a moment he began to chuckle. "It seems I have been long out of the loop. Forgive me, Knight Kenobi. The last I remember you were a skinny boy tagging along Jinn's heels." He paused as his eyes twinkled with a thought. "How is the old troublemaker these days?"

"Still raising the ire of everyone he meets," Obi-Wan said flatly.

"I imagined he would have mellowed by this age."

Obi-Wan remained solemn.

"You will have to give him a message for me."

"I am sorry, Master Trocha, but Master Jinn and I are not on pleasant terms."

Trocha paused to study the young Jedi. Oddly, Obi-Wan felt something disturbing in the intense gaze. "Hmm. Seems he can't help but to run off his padawans. Forgive me."

Obi-Wan nodded slightly. 

"I have to admit," Trocha began as if the previous moment of conversation had not happened while he led Obi-Wan to a waiting speeder. "I was surprised when the Council informed me that they would be sending a lone knight. I had expected a team to find Qin Luc."

"I am all that is required," Obi-Wan replied without inflection. "I will find her and return her to the Melorians."

Trocha stopped. "She is not going to stay here?"

Giving the former master healer no reaction, he said softly, "No, Master, her people have requested that she is returned to them."

"She is needed here."

"That is not my decision, Master."

Trocha was quiet as he guided the silver speeder onto a road that led to a large house on a hilltop. "I suppose you must do as you are ordered," he said finally.

Obi-Wan studied the plain landscape. The edge of the Xim village the colony sat on had been stripped and landscaped. Everyone working in the colony had their own private housing. Apartments for those in lower positions and houses for the more established members of the science community. Of course, the finest of the homes loomed from the hill they approached.

Ighista Trocha had made a fortune on his scientific advances in cellular reproduction. Its uses eliminated much of the need for syntheskin and simple cybernetics when he could regrow damaged tissue. Still the advances were limited until he could regrow lost limbs or damaged organs. That was the Melorian Qin Luc's job.

A Xim rebel faction claimed responsibility demanding the colony leave their world. Yet, for Obi-Wan, it did not feel right. There had been no other actions from the Ximi before this, so why would they be so bold now? Especially days after the Melorian Federation had requested she return to their world.

Qin Luc was too important to sacrifice on politics. The Senate refused Trocha's request for intervention but the Melorian's held sway and convinced the Senate to allow them to rescue their own. After several failed attempts, the Chancellor furthered it by asking the Jedi Council to aid the Melorian's request.

On approach to the large house, a woman exited and walked out onto the duracrete drive. A very bright, multicolored cloak wrapped around her shoulders but fell away to reveal a two tone red dress. She smiled broadly as Trocha hopped out of the speeder and greeted the young woman. Her dark brown hair blew wildly in the evening breeze. 

"Knight Kenobi, this is my wife and lady of the house, Halla."

Obi-Wan bowed formally to the young woman. 

"We already know each other," she said as she stretched up and kissed her husband's cheek not really giving the Jedi any attention. "I was only a year younger and we shared some of the same friends."

"Ah, yes," Trocha said softly as he eyed the Jedi carefully. 

Halla reached out and brushed her fingers across the knight's exposed wrist. Small flashes passed between flesh. She smiled softly as Obi-Wan looked at her in surprise.

Trocha frowned.

______________________

__

The Book of Concussions

Obi-Wan silently stalked through the corridor of the healing center. There was no pause in his step as he easily followed his padawan's bright Force signature. Although he was still concerned, he felt the boy was all right. But he had to be certain. 

"Are you lost?" Bant called out from behind. 

"No."

A strong hand grabbed his wrist and pulled him back. "You must have misheard me," Bant said evenly. "I think you were in that room down the hall." She pointed a salmon colored figure back to the room he had recently escaped from.

"I am fine," the Jedi master answered, wrapping himself in the folds of a newly replaced cloak. It was still stiff and uncomfortable but it would break in with time. "Really."

"By whose definition?" Bant argued. Salmon hands pressed to Obi-Wan's injured shoulder. "It needs checked, or do you want to bleed all over that new cloak?"

Obi-Wan twisted away from his friend. "What about Bali?" he demanded. "You should be taking care of him."

"Dirad is treating him. He is fine."

"I want to make sure."

"Let me check your shoulder first."

The master remained defiant, keeping just out of the healer's reach. "I am fine," he growled.

Bant shook her head. "I was looking for a nice calm day. Nothing crazy. All I wanted to see was twisted ankles and training saber burns. Not putting up with a stubborn master and his far too obedient padawan that always have to rush in and be the hero."

"Bali."

"One of these days you are going to get yourself killed and then where would you be?"

"Someplace very quiet." He folded his arms deep into the sleeves of his cloak. "Bali."

"You have a one track mind."

"I try." With that, he turned sharply and headed for the room his padawan was in. A worried breath escaped Obi-Wan the moment he stepped into the small room. Bali was curled up under the covers of a medical sleep couch. Approaching the boy, to his dismay, he found the little green PodBot wrapped tightly in Bali's fingers.

"He won't let go of it," Dirad said softly. "He's afraid it will get tossed in a recycle bin."

"I have a feeling I won't be that lucky," Obi-Wan softly replied. 

At the sound of the Jedi's voice, the little droid warbled a disconcerted series of beeps. Then went silent again.

"He wants to get it repaired," Dirad said, checking a file. "I suggested he take it down to Vu'et in maintenance, he can fix anything."

"Why did you tell him that?"

"He would look a little silly carrying around a broken PodBot."

Obi-Wan sighed. "I was going to get rid of it, but Bali's already attached to the little beast."

"Oh, don't worry," Bant piped up, "It will get used to you eventually."

"What was that supposed to–"

Lacking all nobility and grace, Obi-Wan fell backward, crashing into a small table and finally hitting the floor with a dull thud.

Dirad stepped around the unconscious Jedi sprawled across the floor. "You could at least have sat him down first. It would have saved him from another concussion."

"If he knew I was planning a whammy, he would have stopped me," Bant said plainly as she knelt to check her friend's shoulder. "A day in bacta should fix this right up."

__________________________

__

The Book of Punishment

"Foolish child!" Darth Sidious hissed. Turning his complete attention to the kneeling trembling figure. "You are wasting my time with your games. I did not want that Skywalker woman dead yet. I wanted the boy to have time to get attached."

"He is in pain," Vengier rasped.

"Not enough." Sidious studied the figure of his apprentice. Her mask was gone. Her face visible. This could be a problem. "You should have killed Amidala while you had the chance." At least without her mask, he could see the fear in the bright green eyes. Two eyes were a luxury. 

"It was the Chosen One's mother." 

A little too independent, Sidious thought. He had known that when he had discovered her secret dealing with pirates behind her controlling husband's back. Her intense anger and the cold-blooded nature for which she killed had intrigued him. When other potential apprentices had failed to meet his standards, Vengier had lived up to the more important ones.

The dark master had thoroughly enjoyed driving her mad. Filling her head with lies that served to deepen her blood lust. Breathing life into her dying body he incited her need for vengeance against those she believed wronged her. 

Crouching in the shadows back on Xim, he had relished the pain in the young Jedi lying among cargo. It was the mental anguish that he had fed off. It had been so easy to make Kenobi believe she was dead.

Even easier to convince Halla Keizian of her abandonment. 

Still, he had not planned on Vengier's first act as a Sith assassin to hunt down and murder her husband. Trocha was an encyclopedia of cloning knowledge and in the blink of an eye, Vengier had erased him from the universe. Trocha's death was only a small loss in the grand scheme of things. Besides, the dark master enjoyed discovering new depths her deranged mind would go to for revenge. 

But her absolute obedience he had not.

She was too dangerous to continue for much longer, soon if things were not screwed up by the mad woman's zeal, he would have a new, better apprentice. 

Sidious raised a pale hand to the kneeling Sith. "If your games have damaged my plans I will kill you." He would have to put her in place to avoid any more trouble. Almost without effort, the master channeled the dark Force through him allowing it to erupt from his fingers. The purplish-blue bolts of lightning arced through the air slamming into Vengier. A shrill, pained cry tore through her. The tattered shroud twisted and smoldered but Sidious did not release his apprentice from the torture. 

"Master! No!" Vengier screamed, writhing in pain on the floor. "Master!" In the convulsions, Obi-Wan's lightsaber slipped free of the black tunic and thudded to the floor.

Sidious suddenly stopped. Gracefully he reached out and called the weapon to him. "What have you brought me, my pretty?" he sneered, studying the weapon. At a touch the blue blade erupted from the hilt. "A Jedi's weapon," he cackled cruelly.

"Stole it," Vengier wheezed crawling back into a kneeling position, "when I fought Kenobi. Stabbed him."

"Impressive," Sidious said absently, studying the blood dried to the silver cylinder. "Not even Darth Maul drew blood." He turned his attention to the shivering, damaged form crouching submissively before him. "You might redeem yourself yet. I will not tolerate any more foolishness, Vengier, do you understand?"

"It would have been different had I brought the boy," Vengier argued. 

"But bring Kenobi's padawan you did not. You acted foolishly and lost the child. Remember that, my apprentice."

"Yes, Master." Vengier hesitated for just a moment. "He would die for the boy."

"Yes, he would."

_____________________

__

The Book of Padawans

"Where did they take her?" Anakin asked softly. 

"To the central morgue," Qui-Gon responded. He stared at his grieving padawan who sat quietly on the couch. "There must be an official report of her death."

"An autopsy? But we know how she died." Tears streaked down Anakin's face. Hands balled into fits as he pressed them against his knees. "She's dead. What more do they need to know?"

"It is how things work." The tall master approached his padawan, feeling the powerful grief emanating from the young man and not knowing how to ease it. "All who die on Coruscant must go through this."

"Jedi don't."

The graying master sighed softly. "We take care of our own."

"She was my mother. Doesn't that mean anything?"

Resting a heavy hand to Anakin's shoulder, the master shook his head. "No, Padawan. Only Jedi and certain visiting dignitaries can bypass that rule."

Anakin shot up and marched around the room in agitation. Anger blushed his features but it quickly simmered to a pained whimper. His drawn fists loosened and his arms swung limply at his sides. "What are they going to do with her then? Will I get to see her again?"

At first Qui-Gon drew his arms across his chest but stopped, deciding that was the wrong pose to deal with the grief stricken youth. Taking on a less imposing stance he spoke slowly, hoping the apprentice could hear his words through his pain. "We will contact a funerary center."

"Why not at the Temple?"

"She is not Jedi."

"She's my mother!"

The older Jedi reached for the young man but was quickly rebuffed. "Anakin, please–"

Without a word, Anakin grabbed his dark cloak from the couch and stormed to the door. The pain was so great and Qui-Gon was afraid to allow the boy to walk away, so he followed him out of the suite and into the still busy corridor of the Royal Coruscant Hotel. 

"Anakin, please, wait up."

Turning angry eyes on his master, Anakin twisted to study Qui-Gon. "I need to be alone."

"Padawan–"

"She is my mother! Every question I ask is met with cold Jedi rules. They don't care about anyone but themselves!"

"These rules are no different for you or anyone else."

"I know, Master," Anakin eerily replied. "I know." Again, he turned to walk away.

"You need to stop and relax. Calm yourself. This agitated manner will not help anything. Meditation will–"

"No," Anakin said firmly, stopping but not turning to face his master again. "I don't want to meditate. I wantI don't know what I want. Just not to be here." 

"Padawan–"

Anakin did not listen; instead he marched through the corridors and disappeared around a corner leaving Qui-Gon in the hall alone. He knew that the youth might say he wanted to be alone, but in his heart, he wanted to be with the Senator. Knowing the Naboo, she would welcome him in and comfort him. Certainly, that would ease Anakin's anger, but he feared it would also draw Anakin further from the Order. He should speak with the Council, offer up a compromise in tending to Shmi's body. At least, then Anakin could see that the Order had not abandoned him. 

Retreating to the now empty hotel suite, he paused in the doorway. Teams of cleaning droids had already entered and were going about repairing the damage to the main room. Their red, oblong bodies hovered about as several dived in to work on the bloodstained carpet. 

One of the arm length droids chattered wildly at him, forcing the Jedi master out of the doorway as another team of droids swept into the room. Deciding it was safer out of the cleaner's way, Qui-Gon went to the sitting room. Blocking out the sound in the next room, he sank to the padded bench seat. 

There had been very few times in his life when he had felt completely helpless. It was a frightening, painful situation. Even more so, knowing all he could do was watch. His padawan did not seek him for comfort. Instead, he was running to a young woman he barely knew for solace. 

All his life he had bent the rules to accomplish his needs and had willingly allowed the Force to guide him in these actions because it spoke to him in a way it spoke to so few. He had always imagined that Anakin would hear that same voice and understand the Force's siren call. He had thought Anakin would understand that everything, no matter how insignificant was important to the greater order of the universe. The elder Jedi had held out hope even as Anakin grew older and lost interest in the smaller things. Anakin's pride was just a phase, he had convinced himself, but after years, it never went away. 

Worst of all, Anakin was still emotionally attached to a mother he had not seen or communicated with in nine years. For all of Qui-Gon's attempts to help the young man over come this critical flaw it came to nothing the moment Shmi was re-introduced into his life.

It left the venerable Jedi to wonder if he had not made a mistake taking the boy from his mother. Yet, everything inside of him demanded that he had done what must be done. Anakin was the chosen one.

Weary midnight blue eyes studied the chair across the small room. The one he had put Bali Tiro in. After all of the excitement, he had managed to get a summary of what happened to the boy from Master Grya, who was leading the investigation. All he could think, was what a brave boy Bali was to face up to the living embodiment of all Jedi nightmares. 

After the ordeal, Qui-Gon felt surprised and a little saddened to see the boy feeling uncertain and that he had failed. The boy had survived–relatively unharmed–a confrontation with the Sith that had critically wounded a saber expert and ended the life of another Jedi as well as countless others. Maybe what was more surprising was just how quickly the boy rebounded, due in no small part to the reassurance offered by his master.

He had seen it several times and each time amazed by the shelter provided in Obi-Wan's warm smile. The little apprentice could not help but to thrive in such an environment. Bali had a good master. 

__________________________

__

The Book of Rough Treatment

"Just you be stubborn," Bant growled as she not so gently wrapped bacta soaked bandages around Obi-Wan's damaged shoulder.

"You would think there was something wrong if I wasn't." Obi-Wan's grin turned to a wince as Bant roughly tightened the wrappings. "Careful."

"Careful?" The healer laughed bitterly. "I should have had you sedated to keep in bacta longer." She huffed and continued her work. "I should just knock you flat on your back again."

"I would like to see you try. Ow!"

"Maybe I should." Bant sighed loudly as she finished tying off the bandages. "You could have lost the use of your arm or worse, your life."

"I could have lost Bali."

Bant said nothing as she quietly studied his bruised, scarred back. "You really need someone to check your spine."

"It still works."

The healer poked a finger against a mildly swollen area eliciting a grunt. "Notice after a day in bacta, it's still inflamed. Tell me that doesn't bother you."

"It doesn't." He did not offer any explanation or excuse. Instead, sat silently staring at the wall. 

From the corridor, a shrill scream brought the entire healing center to a halt. The scream ripped from one end to the other.

Bant grinned at the sound of her distressed padawan. "You know, one of these days, Liril will outgrow that. I will probably be deaf by then but she will grow out of it. I hope." The shrill scream sounded more distant this time. "Bali is just fine."

"I wish he would leave her alone."

"Oh, yes, because you were the most perfect little padawan at that age."

"Bant."

"Don't Bant me. I seem to remember a time when you–"

The exam room door swooshed open and Bali ran in. He quickly and mercilessly hopped up on the exam table jarring his wounded master. 

Obi-Wan groaned.

"Master Dirad told me to," Bali said cheerfully showing no signs of the earlier trauma except the clipped padawan braid. 

"He would," Obi-Wan playfully growled as he wrapped his arms around the boy causing Bali to burst into a fit of giggles. Raising his voice slightly so the lurking Master Healer would overhear, "I see where Bant learned her wonderful bedside manner. You are a bad influence on her."

Dirad's grinning yellow face appeared in the doorway. "Says you who will be the ruin of that boy."

Obi-Wan clapped his hands over Bali's ears. "Shh, the boy idolizes me."

Bali giggled happily falling up against the master's chest. "My hero!" he teased.

"You are both incorrigible," the elder healer laughed.

After Dirad had disappeared, there was a strange silence. Then Bant chose to speak up. "So Anakin's Mom was murdered by the Sith?"

Obi-Wan nodded but said nothing else. 

"But I thought she was on Tatooine."

"_Was_ being the operative word," Obi-Wan replied as he slipped off the table and grabbed the clean tunic that was waiting for him. He twisted slightly and winced as pain shot up his spine. 

"You've got some bruised muscles back there. I recommend rest," Bant told him gently. 

"I don't have time for that." Obi-Wan gingerly pulled his tunic on.

Bali quietly watched the two, but said nothing. Instead broke into a smile at the sight of the little green PodBot peeking around the door. The droid flew into the room. 

At the sight of the annoying little droid, Obi-Wan ordered, "You, get away from me." 

Wild, agitated chirps filled the air. The little droid had been repaired. A gold antenna replaced the broken black one but its voice was still broken. Warbling, unsteady beeps filled the air. It tried to butt against the Jedi's wounded shoulder and Obi-Wan swiped at it but the PodBot had learned its lesson and quickly got out of the Jedi's way. The little droid gave a mocking chirp at the unhappy Jedi.

"Come here, Warbler. Master doesn't like you." At Bali's happy voice, the tiny droid flew to the safety of its new master but couldn't resist another series of indignant beeps thrown at Obi-Wan. "Keeper Vu'et fixed it. Well, he couldn't find a small enough voice box so that did not get fixed. That is why I named it Warbler." Bali gently pulled the droid out of the air and little fingers handled the gold antenna. "He didn't have a black one but offered to paint this one. But I do not know. I kind of like it. It's unique like me." Happy look left the padawan just as his shoulders slumped slightly. "Like I used to be."

"You will always be unique, Padawan." Wounded by the pain in the apprentice's eyes, Obi-Wan reached out and fingered the cruelly severed padawan braid. The boy winced as if there was physical pain associated the damage. "We will fix this."

Bant, who had been silently watching the scene in amusement, spoke up, "You know, we could just accelerate the growth and lengthen your braid. Then it would all be your hair."

"But I like my flame tip," Bali replied, twisting Warbler around in his hands unhappily. The little droid made a sound akin to a purr but it was just the effect of its damaged voice box. 

"Then we will make you flame tip," Obi-Wan said as he lightly brushed his fingers through the boy's short spikes. "Now about this droid–"

"Warbler. It likes to be called Warbler."

"Fine, about Warbler, keep it quiet in the corridors, keep it in the apartment except during your own time. It does not accompany us on missions–"

"But it's an electrician bot," Bali interrupted but was quickly silenced with a stern look from his master. "Forgive me, Master, I didn't mean to interrupt."

Obi-Wan nodded, dismissing the error and continued, "Above all, and never forget this, Padawan, keep it away from me."

Bali giggled. "Yes, Master." Releasing Warbler, the PodBot flew around the room checking things out but never missing a chance to chirp rudely at the Jedi Master. 

___________________________

__

Holonet Broadcasting Company

"in a concerted effort with Senate Security, the HBC reported Senator Bail Organa of Alderaan was assassinated to protect him from further assassination attempts. This report however was false. The Senator's safety was foremost in our minds and our sympathies go out to his family as he struggles to survive the attack by the mysterious assassin who has plagued the Senate in recent months. 

"Senator Organa's spokesperson released a statement say the Senator is expected to pull through and is currently in an undisclosed location receiving treatment. The Senator's spokesperson also wishes to extend a special thank to the members of the Jedi Order who rescued him.

"In other news, the conflict along the borders with the Aveniar is turning into a full scale civil assault. Both sides are reporting moderate casualties as the battles intensify"

___________________________

__

The Book of the Wise Little Green Troll

"Changed, much has in my lifetime," Yoda said as he hobbled out onto the balcony where Qui-Gon Jinn stood silently. "Too crowded, it has become."

The tall master twisted slightly to study the diminutive figure next to him. He had expected to be summoned back to the Council Chambers. "Master?"

"Hmm," Yoda grumbled. "Tall you are, hard to look up."

Stifling a small sigh, Qui-Gon knelt. "I was looking to spend a little time alone, Master."

"Spent enough time alone, you have."

There was a long silence before Qui-Gon tentatively answered, "I have much to contemplate, Master."

"Hmm." 

At least the little master did not insist on interrogating him, Qui-Gon though dully. "About my padawan–"

"From the moment we enter the Temple as infants, we are taught to trust in the Force. It is our companion, it is a part of us that we cannot exist without. We suffer when our connection is removed. We are relieved when the Force rushes back to us." The small master raised his head, taking in the dying day's final rays. "Know only trust in the Force we do for it cannot betray us."

"Master–"

Yoda's hand flew out and smacked the kneeling master's knee with his gimer stick. Just as quickly, the serenity returned. "Not only the Force we must trust. Without trust, we are alone."

Qui-Gon opened his mouth but the gleam in the troll's eye kept him silent.

"Great trust was put into you today, yet I sense you are still blind to it." Yoda studied the other for a time, then sighed, allowing his small shoulders to sag a little. Shaking his head, he announced, "Decided on your padawan, we have."

The younger master stiffened slightly. "And?"

"Pain he is in. Hurts it does to loose someone so close." Yoda shook his head sadly. "Understand this we do. Time to mourn, we will give young Skywalker. Bury his mother he should. Regain his focus on training he must." The last words were spoken with that gravelly, serious tone that defied anyone not to obey. 

Qui-Gon wordlessly nodded.

Yoda sighed softly before turning his attention to the busy skyline. Raising large eyes to the distant horizon, the ancient master breathed, "Complete his training, you must."

"It is going well."

The little master turned sharply to eye Qui-Gon suspiciously. "Sense I do, reservations you have."

The tall Jedi straightened, making his spine rigid. "He is farther advanced than his age mates."

"Prideful it makes him as it makes you."

Taking a slow, easing breath Qui-Gon paused so not to speak sharply to the respected master. "It is hardly Anakin's fault that he learns faster than others." Frustration welled in him, unhappy that Yoda always sought to undermine his training of the boy.

"Learns the motion, but does not spend time learning the meaning." Yoda shook his head sadly. "Seek not in the Force for guidance he does."

"That is an unfair assessment," Qui-Gon bristled. Anakin did not need this put upon him, not now while he was grieving over his mother. Not now that his master was harboring doubts. "I know you were the most against the boy's training–"

"Against it I was for a reason. Tactics you employed were wrong."

"You have to see that Anakin is–"

"The Chosen One he may be, but does not excuse your actions."

Qui-Gon leaned back slightly. "Master if you want to berate me for the past, please find a better time."

Yoda's ears twitched in agitation. 

The younger master rose to his full imposing height and bowed to the small figure. "Forgive me, Master, but I have things to attend to." With a sweep of his cloak, Qui-Gon turned and marched away from the balcony.

"Doubts you must not harbor," Yoda said softly. "Too much depends on it."

________________________

__

The Book of Plans

The static quickly cleared from the blue holoimage of Supreme Chancellor Palpatine. A soft look of grief fluttered across his burden worn features. "This day has brought such strain and tragedy."

Padmé nodded, as that was all the strength that remained. Her face was bruised and her head ached. Still, she knew she should be thankful that her head remained attached to her body. 

"Such grievous news," Palpatine sadly shook his head. "I do hope you are well?"

"As best I can be, considering everything. And you, Chancellor, after all the attack was originally on you."

"It is one of those occasions that reminds me of the importance of the Jedi Order to my place in the Republic. Master Jinn's presence aided you in our struggle against the invading Trade Federation nine years ago. It was he, whose reaction saved my from this terrible assassin's attack." There was a slight hesitation. "How is young Skywalker? I have been meaning to offer my condolences."

"Mourning." Padmé straightened slightly still feeling a little shaky. The thing in black had raced at her so fast that she never had the chance to scream before everything went dark. The next thing she knew, Anakin was weeping over his mother's body. "He has returned to the Jedi Temple." She hesitated a moment. "I was planning to have Shmi honored in traditional Naboo funeral rites."

"That would be wonderful." Palpatine checked something off screen. "The least I can do is aid you in this endeavor. Miss Thelo is at your disposal. She will attend to anything you need."

"Thank you, Chancellor."

___________________________

__

The Book of Strained Conversations

"Master!" Bali giggled yet tried desperately to stifle the laughs. Although he did not imagine the circle of masters in the heavily sound and Force-proof Council Chamber could hear laughter in a room that was always solemn and quiet.

A smiling Obi-Wan lightly tugged on the padawan braid he was in the midst of repairing eliciting more laughs from the boy. "Keep it up, Padawan, and you are going to look very funny with a pink ribbon for a braid."

"You wouldn't!" 

"Have I ever lied to you?"

"Well, there was that time on Alderaan--"

"Forget I asked," Obi-Wan laughed as he finished braiding the ginger strands. Tying the braid off with a few more strands of hair, he released the newly fixed braid. "We'll deal with the markers when we have time," he said indicating the missing blue and red strands that represented a padawan learner's achievements.

"Yes, Master," the thirteen-year-old obediently replied as he slid across the bench slightly to catch his reflection in the deep green marble panels next to the chamber doors. Relief filled the apprentice at the sight of the completed braid as he played with the ginger flame tip before turning back to his quiet master. "If I loose my braid again, I won't have any of my own hair in it."

"I realize it cannot always be helped, but please, try not to," Obi-Wan said softly. "Master's are not supposed to loose their hair keeping their padawan's in braids."

"Is that what happened to Master Winmmphmfm."

Obi-Wan grinned at the bright green eyes that peeked out over the large hand clasped over the apprentice's mouth. "You just love getting me into trouble, don't you?"

Still gagged, Bali happily nodded.

"Just remember, if I get tossed off the balcony, I'm taking you with me."

"Yes, Master," was the muffled reply. The boy quickly turned; surprised to see someone had approached them unnoticed. He smiled at the tall, graying master who slowly took a seat at the bench across from them. A quickly stolen a glance at his own master and wonder if he had known of the approach. Deep down, he knew his master had always been aware. Without prompting, the boy rose to his feet and bowed to Qui-Gon. "Thank you, Master Jinn, for helping rescue me."

"Of course," Qui-Gon answered softly, nodding his head. 

Obi-Wan gave a suddenly weary smile as he turned his gaze to the new arrival. "Yes," he said softly acknowledging the other man's presence, "thank you."

Again, the elder Jedi silently nodded while he continued to study the young master and the apprentice that sank back to the bench. Within moments, the silence became unbearable. "Ah, youth," he began, "they rebound so quickly from strife."

Bali brightened. "Master told me he also lost his braid when he was a padawan. And that it is only hair and it would grow back. It does not change who I am." The little padawan smiled proudly.

"Your master is a very wise man."

"That's what everyone says, but he's just master. Still makes me eat my tirup greens." He shook his head in mock sadness. 

The padawan's exuberance inspired a smile in the graying master. "Consider this a consolation, Padawan Tiro, your master couldn't stand them at your age either."

Bali looked curiously at the solemn faced Obi-Wan. "You said you liked tirup greens."

"I do now," Obi-Wan replied with a mischievous grin then brushed his fingers through the short dark spikes causing the padawan to giggle.

Qui-Gon quietly watched the interaction of his former padawan with the boy. Something moved in the deep blue depths. "It is quite interesting," he said, breaking up the joyful moment between the two. "Just earlier I had a conversation with Master Yoda on trust. I see in how you interact together. What a strong bond you have. Great trust. Amazing. I can see what a formidable team you will be."

"We are a team," Bali answered innocently.

"Indeed you are," Qui-Gon quickly replied but stopped short the moment Obi-Wan gripped at the edges of his cloak and drew it tight around him. 

Just then, Bali stole a glance at the graying master and thought he saw remorse flutter across the other man's face but it was gone just as quickly as it appeared. 

__________________________

__

The Book of the Scarred

Silent, like a specter, Darth Vengier glided through the corridor of the darkened structure. Power to the building had long since been disrupted but the nearby lights of the Industrial District gave an eerie red glow to hooded figure's surroundings. 

The dark lord moved quietly into a large room that had once been elegantly decorated, most likely a ballroom in the early days of the new Republic. But now grime and vandals had robbed the immense chamber of its beauty. Soot blackened the walls and floors leaving a trail of delicate footsteps. The Sith had always found comfort in the wide-open room but now it seemed cramped leaving her feeling trapped.

Vengier paused in the center and pulled back the black cowl that hid her unmasked face. Bright green eyes searched the room but found it as empty as the shell of Halla Keizian. After all, that was all she was in the end, a shadow of her former self. Anger, hate and revenge were all that remained. That and flesh but even it was transient.

Hands struggled with the black glove freeing a pale hand and paler fingers brushed against the scarred flesh of the side of her face.

The mottle skin remained to remind her of her obedience to her master. He had scarred her to punish her for killing a stupid Naboo woman out of malice. 

It had been such fun to watch the pretty Naboo writhe and beg for mercy as she slowly bled to death from wounds sustained from being tossed into a Rechar briar patch. The thorny vine was so sharp it could slice through flesh as easily as the finest vibroshiv. After watching the spoiled witch rob a poor child of a beautiful Hydarian rose it was all Vengier could stand. Making the pampered woman eat the thorny stem was a delight to the Sith. She had not had so much fun since her days back on Xim.

Last she had heard, the villagers still feared the return of the _Mogu Nyui_: the avenger of the younglings. The villagers had learned the hard way that if they harmed a youngling their bodies would be found broken and dangling from the trees in the village center. It took only a dozen bodies before the habitually abused children was left unharmed.

Those were the days, Vengier laughed unhappily to herself at the memory. She longed for the days when she answered to no one, least of all a demanding master.

How dare he chastise her! He wanted the slave woman dead, what did it matter if she died now or later? Skywalker was already too attached to a mother who had abandoned him to the galaxy. She had sensed his need, desire, anger at being called away from her after just being reunited.

The shroud wavered just above the floor before Vengier sank to her knees. Weariness consumed the dark figure. Her battles had been many throughout the day. Even the thrill of the horror in Anakin's face as she pierced his mother's heart with a metal shard did not outweigh the day's losses.

Kenobi still lived. She so desperately wanted to see him suffer for all the pain he caused her. Even the simple joy in taking his lightsaber as a trophy had been robbed of her by her master, Lord Sidious. He had no right taking it from her.

Still, Vengier knew she should be grateful her master did not find her other prize.

From the folds of her tattered shroud, the pale hand produced the two-tone padawan braid. Bright green eyes studied the plaited strands curled in her open palm. Her fingers brushed over the ginger and brown strands that had once belonged to her traitorous lover and the child he so desperately defended. A much-vaunted prize if ever there was one, if only she had not been forced to beat the child into submission to obtain it.

__

Beat the child into submission.

At first, the figure began to shrink into herself, vanishing into the shadows of her shroud as the words mercilessly clung to her.

__

Beat the child.

The thought echoed against her tortured mind. Soft weeping turned to wails then became shrieks of agony.

She had relished the fear in the boy's eyes and reveled in the madness of the moment. All she wanted was to hurt him. In the child, she saw the man she lived to destroy. Saw the concern and caring that was so easily demonstrated in the simple brush of fingers through thick brown spikes. Most of all, she saw a well-loved child. One of which, Obi-Wan Kenobi did not deserve.

_________________________

The Book of the Master and Padawan Part X

__

Sweat glistened against Bali's forehead as he moved to block the blue blade. His training lightsaber crackled against his master's powered down weapon. 

"Pay attention, Padawan," Obi-Wan said, easily driving the boy back.

"I am," the eleven-year-old growled through clenched teeth.

"You are too busy defending yourself," the Jedi master said as he continued to easily dominate the battle. "You must look ahead. Anticipate your opponent's movements."

Bali struggled but every attempt ended in failure, his master was too fast to keep caught up with. The boy swung only to be nearly disarmed by the powerful block. Grunting the apprentice ducked away from a swing and caught his master's saber. Breaking away Bali was force to block again.

"You are not paying attention, Padawan. What am I doing?"

"Winning," Bali growled, barely blocking another of his master's strikes. He desperately tried to pay attention to his master's graceful movements. It was easy to see how the Jedi was such a formidable warrior. Unfortunately, he could not study the Jedi and block at the same time. His master was fast and at first that was all the boy could see. He watched Obi-Wan turn and strike and each time he allowed his left side to be exposed. Still, the Jedi moved too fast.

"What do you see?" Obi-Wan pressed as he continued to drive the padawan across the practice floor.

Quickly Bali blocked a down swing and the moment Obi-Wan drew his saber arm back, the young apprentice struck. Lightning quick reflexes were not enough to save the master from a singed left side.

"Very good," Obi-Wan said as he sank to his knees showing a bit of weariness in the pale blue gaze. "That is what it is about, finding a weakness in your opponent."

"Yes, Master," Bali grinned, "but you let me win."

"No, Padawan, you found that on your own." A wicked smile as the Jedi brushed his fingers through the damp brown spikes. "There's just no guarantee that will be my weakness next time."

Bali's pleased look quickly faded at the sight of stern Mace Windu approaching. "Master," the boy said formally as Mace came to a stop in front of the Jedi and apprentice. 

"Master," Obi-Wan replied as he slowly rose to his feet. "What brings you to this particular training room?" The words were spoken seriously even if the smile was not.

"Master Kenobi, Padawan Tiro," Mace greeted formally then broke into a wide smile. "I thought I would see what bad habits you are teaching the boy."

"Seems you have mistaken me with someone else," Obi-Wan said as he adjusted the saber setting. The glowing blue blade hummed dangerously. 

Mace eyed the empty practice floor. "Appears everyone is afraid to share the same room with you. All those silly flourishes could easily lop a head off." He waved his hand about the air mocking Obi-Wan's fighting style. "The more economical the better," he said evenly.

"Ah, yes," the younger Jedi teased, "your style is as economical as they come?"

"But of course,"

Bali deactivated his training weapon and started to withdraw from the two posturing masters. It always ended the same way so he decided to get out of the way as soon as possible.

Both Obi-Wan and Mace turned on the retreating boy and asked in unison, "Where are you going?"

"Someplace safe," Bali replied as he bolted across the floor to the viewing deck staircase.

"Coward!" Obi-Wan playfully called out. 

Half way up the steps, the grinning boy turned and shook his head only to be playfully dismissed.

Then the two Jedi masters turned to size one another up.

"You know," Obi-Wan said, "if anyone saw you heading this way–"

"We are going to have an audience," Mace finished showing a little too much pride in that statement. "Certainly we need witnesses to watch me break the tie."

"You?" Obi-Wan laughed as he loosely swung the saber through the air, readying himself. Then deactivating his weapon he paced to the edge of the practice floor as Mace did the same to the opposite corner. 

Both men acknowledged one another with a curt nod.

In the blink of an eye, violet and blue clashed. The air crackled as the two combatants lashed out at one another. Obi-Wan was the first to break away. He swung his saber about quickly driving the older master backward. Mace quickly countered blocking a wild swing, twisting about and delivering a powerful down thrust.

Obi-Wan flipped out of the way of the violet blade. He hit the mat with a light thud and clipped Mace's sleeve. "Flourishes, huh?"

Mace twisted the hilt in his hand and suddenly drove the weapon backward singing the younger man's thigh. Obi-Wan leapt backward blocking the powerful attack. 

Blades locked and clashed against each other as they slid down to their respective hilts. Neither combatant willing to break away as they both pressed into their weapons.

"How many?" Mace asked.

A quick glance about the practice room and Obi-Wan breathed, "A couple dozen."

"That all?" Mace broke free and swung dangerously chasing the ginger haired Jedi across the floor.

Obi-Wan leapt, flipping over the senior Council member singing his other shoulder. "At least you are letting me win."

"Oh, I don't think so!" Mace countered and blocked but the younger man had the upper hand. 

As the battle raged on the viewing deck and bleachers filled with the curious and the awe filled to watch the friendly battle.

Obi-Wan spun blocking the other's strike.

"Quit playing around," Mace taunted, "and fight me."

"Okay."

With that demand, the battle quickly intensified. The flashes of their sabers moving so fast that the viewers had trouble keeping up with the movements. 

Mace decidedly gained the upper hand keeping Obi-Wan in a constant state of blocking.

Bali closed his eyes for a moment and hoped his master would gain control. He knew it was just a game between the two masters but with the growing crowd, he wanted them to see his master win. 

The violet blade breezed passed Obi-Wan's defenses singing the master's shoulder, then just as quickly caught his wrist nearly disarming him. Another blow unbalanced the younger man and Mace quickly drove in to finish the battle.

A swipe of the violet blade sent Obi-Wan tumbling backward but he easily leapt to his feet, quickly dodged a devastating strike and parried. Mace struggled to get his footing as Obi-Wan quickly drove him to the edge of the mat.

Mace leapt, catching the edge of the bleachers and bounded off them. He flipped over the younger man's head and just as he landed caught Obi-Wan in a block. The two sabers sparked and flashed but neither man broke away. 

Obi-Wan smiled and suddenly released the pressure he was exerting. Mace did not and he flew forward, crashing against the Jedi. They hit the floor and Obi-Wan kicked him sending the elder master flying over his head. Mace hit the floor but carefully honed reflexes allowed him to easily roll and quickly regain his footing. Turning he stopped as the tip of Obi-Wan's blade rested just below his chin.

Both remained frozen in position, eyeing each other. 

The silence was shattered when the crowd went wild with cheers and applause.

"You wanted an audience," Obi-Wan grinned with a weary laugh as he offered the other a helping hand up. 

_____________________________

__

The Book of Explanations

The circle of twelve silently watched the three Jedi who stood in the center of the Council chamber. Their unrelenting gaze made Bali uncomfortable as he struggled to pay attention to Qui-Gon Jinn's report.

"Senator Amidala is arranging Shmi Skywalker's funeral. He is," there was a strange pause in the Master's words, "in attendance. This has been a great tragedy for Anakin and he will work through this, given time to heal."

The thirteen-year-old focused his attention toward the expanse of windows even as his thoughts reached out to his master.

"Hope we do," Yoda answered for the others, "that this does not interfere with his training. Dangerous time it is for him."

"It will not," Anakin said evenly as he marched into the chambers and took his place by his master's side.

Bali could sense the surprise in both his master and the older Jedi. He never even sensed the important padawan's approach.

The graying Jedi master quickly stifled a surprised expression. "I thought you would be–"

"I can do nothing for her now. My place is here at my master's side."

The words warmed Qui-Gon and he turned to face the Council with a small smile. Yet, those same words made Bali nervous. 

As soon as everything settled, Ki-Adi Mundi turned his attention to Obi-Wan. "Tell us, Master Kenobi, about this assassin."

Obi-Wan took a deep breath, but the hesitation was too long and Depa Billaba spoke up, "Master Kenobi?"

The carefully studied younger man twisted about to face the voice and nodded slightly in understanding. He spoke slowly so not to have to repeat it. "Halla Keizian."

"Not Trocha?" Mace asked quickly.

"No."

Qui-Gon's eyes widened at the casual pronunciation. "Ighista? What about him?"

Mace shook his head as he leaned forward in his seat but never removed his gaze from Qui-Gon. "There was some suspicion that Trocha was behind the assassinations for revenge against those who shut his cloning facilities down. Many of those assassinated were either in business with or helped put him out of business."

The tall master huffed and shifted, folding his arms tight across his chest.

Undeterred by the action, Mace continued, "When you revealed that the killer was a Sith naturally our suspicion fell to Master Trocha."

"You of all people should have known Trocha would never turn," Qui-Gon growled.

The senior Council member did not respond.

Carefully Bali stole a glance passed the two masters and caught sight of Anakin looking to Qui-Gon curiously. 

Plo Koon cut in with a betrayal laced tone, "He left the Order to pursue matters of questionable ethics."

Master Nevian, a reddish skinned humanoid with black eye tattoos, the newest member of the Council spoke cautiously. "What of Keizian? A rogue former Jedi accused of mass murder?" He paused to study the four in the center of the room. "It seems unlikely that there were no suspicions directed toward her prior to this encounter that cost a woman her life."

Anakin's expression darkened at the generic description of his mother. 

Quickly shifting his attention to the circle of masters, Bali wondered if any of them noticed. 

"She was believed dead," Obi-Wan answered without addressing anyone in particular.

The words captured Qui-Gon's attention and he turned a surprised expression on his former apprentice. "Why was she believed dead?" He asked evenly.

"Because I saw Master Trocha murder her." There was no inflection, no emotion in the words Obi-Wan spoke. His pale blue gaze stared out, unfocused.

Reaching through the bond, Bali brushed his master's thoughts, they were partially shielded but his master was not closed off from him. 

"Deceive eyes can," Yoda spoke up. He studied Obi-Wan carefully.

"I felt her die." Every fiber of his shattered being had felt her life leave her. He couldn't even be there for her in those last moments, as she died alone. 

Bali wanted respond, if only to send a little pulse of reassurance through their bond but it was stopped. Seized in the moment a wash of anger breezed through the Force. Sensing its source and too young to know complete control, Bali turned his gaze to Anakin. 

Mace shot Qui-Gon a sharp look forcing the elder master to acknowledge what they all sensed. 

"My padawan," Qui-Gon hurriedly began, "has recently suffered a trauma and in your wisdom have given him leave–"

"No, Master," Anakin immediately responded. "I do not wish to take time off," he stepped forward, "as I said, there is nothing I can do for her now. I will have the rest of my life to mourn her loss. Right now, there is a Sith, the enemy of the Jedi and the enemy of the light out there. This Sith, whoever _it_ might be, is responsible for many deaths, including my mother's. I am certain, Masters, that it will be responsible for many more. I want to be involved. I want to help find those responsible and bring them to justice."

Qui-Gon smiled proudly and placed a reassuring hand on Anakin's shoulder. 

Bali silently edged closer to Obi-Wan.

_____________________

__

The Book of the Crowded Corridor

A soft, questioning beep sounded in the busy Temple corridor. The sound repeated as the small PodBot flew quickly through the hall searching for its boy. Warbler dodged and weaved its way around the many Jedi making their way from one destination to the next. The gold and black antenna swivelled about but the little droid did not slow down.

"Yes, Padawan, but the Council has given you leave." Qui-Gon Jinn said as he appeared around a corner, struggling to keep up with his tall apprentice. "Take this time, Anakin, to grieve."

"I will have all my life to grieve," Anakin replied as he suddenly stopped and faced the graying master. Sadness danced across his youthful features before quickly being hidden in a mask of Jedi calm. "Let me help, the Council has allowed it." He paused, thoughts shifting. "I need this, Master. I need something to do."

Concern radiated in the older Jedi as he studied the dusty little boy who had become a man. "I am concerned is all, Anakin." He placed a hand against the youth's shoulder. "This is an emotionally trying time for you."

"I am fine." Anakin pulled away, glancing down the busy corridor. "I must return to the Senator. We are still her protectors, are we not?"

"Of course."

Warbler approached the two stopped Jedi without offering them any attention. The little droid would have easily zipped passed if Qui-Gon had not stepped into its path. The small dinged green shape smashed into the large mass of dark brown and was sent careening into the wall. A dull clang rang out through the corridor as the droid flew about unsteadily before gaining control again. Chirping rudely at the tall man, Warbler spun around and flew off returning to its mission. A low, uneven whistle escaped the PodBot as it continued searching for its boy.

The elder Jedi gave a weak smile, fondly remembering the child Anakin had once been. "Too bad you out grew playing with droids. That one looks as if needs some work." 

"At least I can fix it," Anakin said softly. "I'm supposed to be this great Jedi and I can't even save my mother." 

_______________________

__

The Book of Softly Spoken Words in Noisy Places

"When do you think we will have to go, Master?" Bali asked, practically chasing after the ginger haired Jedi who marched through the crowded corridor.

Obi-Wan suddenly stopped to face the inquiring green eyes. "I do not know, Padawan." There was a pause, and then he spoke slowly, "I do not want you coming on this mission."

The little boy froze at the calmly spoken words. They had seemed so loud even over the din of the busy hall. Feeling something akin to being dowsed in cold water, panic poured through the small thirteen-year-old. "Master?" It took all of his strength to muster that one word. He was horrified by the knowledge that he was to be left behind and yet, it was nothing compared to how upset he became when the pale blue eyes never looked at him directly. Instead, the young master's gaze dully sought out the activity at the far end of the long corridor. An uncertain voice questioned again, "Master?"

There was strangely no emotion in his master's gaze. "I want you to stay in the Temple," Obi-Wan replied more firmly. "Return to your classes. I'm letting you get behind again."

"I'm always behind," Bali answered with the painful honesty of his existence. He would always be behind and being at the Temple would change nothing.

The masters on the Jedi High Council had not forbidden him to go, Bali decided as he thought back to the earlier meeting. Master Windu had said that rumblings from the Senate indicated a war resolution was quickly coming to pass. It would be a good time for the Sith to make a move. Even Master Yoda explained that he sensed something wrong, feeling the dark side was moving but he could not determine its source. "But Master, the Council said we would go–"

"Yes, Padawan, but I am your master, and I can choose to exclude you from this mission."

At the words, Bali's lower lip trembled slightly as he struggled not to show how upset he was. His master had never kept him from a mission before. "Am I not a good padawan?"

"You are an excellent padawan," Obi-Wan replied, placing a reassuring hand to the boy's shoulder. "This mission is too dangerous."

"But I have been on dangerous missions before. I don't want to stay behind. I want to help. Please, Master."

"No."

"But Master–"

"No." Obi-Wan sighed softly. "You are not ready to go back out into the field. You need time to recover."

"I feel okay."

"No, Padawan."

"I want to go."

"No and that is final. You have studies to tend to."

Bali reached through the training bond and found it partially closed off. Still, he received an unspoken response to his silent query. _Stay and be safe. Study._

The master folded his arms across his chest and spoke evenly, "Do as I say, Padawan. Do not disobey me. Not this time."

All Bali could do was nod weakly but the tears that he had struggled to hold in check broke free. Fists brushed the tears away in embarrassment and frustration. He felt like a baby being sent to his room. He was supposed to go on the mission to protect the Senate. He was supposed to be at his master's side. "Master," Bali begged one last time.

"Do not disobey me, Padawan," the words were firm and filled with warming and so unlike any his master had given him before. 

"Yes, Master," the boy mumbled weakly. Struggling for calm but not finding it, Bali stared to walk away. 

"Where are you going?" Obi-Wan asked softly, the surprise in his voice was nearly drowned out by the sounds of the corridor.

"To study, isn't that what I'm supposed to do?" The apprentice did not wait for an answer. He just walked away. He understood what happened, after all the Sith monster had captured him and taken off. There was no reason to be angry with his master, because as Bali saw it, it was his mistake and now he couldn't be trusted on a mission. 

After only a short distance and Bali felt safely beyond his master's reach, he slowed a little. Something in the corner of his eye caught his attention. The little green PodBot quickly weaved its way through the corridor to the unhappy boy. It chirped questionably. 

A small smile leapt to the boy's face. He reached up and snagged the little droid out of the air and held the small oblong shape. It gave a low, damaged whistle that sounded like a soft purr as Bali carried to droid through the corridor. "Master would be upset if he saw you flying around by yourself," Bali whistled to the PodBot. "He's already upset."

Warbler chirped warmly at the boy, who carried it through the Temple toward an unknown destination.

Bali just sighed. The black shrouded monster had rushed so fast at him he didn't know what to do. He was so frightened. He didn't mean to get captured. But his master had said it was all right. 

It wasn't.

_____________________

__

The Book of Funeral Preparations

"Will they even let you attend?" Jira asked carefully as she stopped her flower arranging. Her sad gaze sought out the only other person in the funeral chamber.

Anakin Skywalker paused, shifting the wood in his arms slightly. "They don't have much of a choice, I will be here regardless." Shaking his head, he sighed and spoke bitterly, "They gave me leave to tend to her, then I must return my focus on my training."

Jira nodded but remained silent. Dressed in more subdued tones, she reverently moved around the plain chamber placing beautiful, imported flowers from Naboo in traditional vases. All of which, she had specially obtained at Padmé's request. "I hope you don't mind that we are honoring her in the Naboo tradition."

"I saw a Naboo funeral when I was nine. It was better than the kind the Jedi offer their dead. Besides, I wouldn't know how to honor her." He gave a small smile. "Thank you."

"It is my fault, really."

"Because you brought her here?" Anakin asked. "No. It isn't. She could have died some other way and I would never have seen her. At least I got that. I got to tell her that I loved her one last time."

Jira gave a sad little smile as she continued the preparations, pausing long enough to watch Anakin cover the bier with wood shipped from Naboo. "And that thing that burst into the hotel room. I am glad I wasn't there. I don't think I could be as strong as Senator Amidala. I would be a puddle of jelly right now instead of preparing to address the Senate on the approaching war."

"I would have killed it," Anakin growled his voice echoing off the stone walls as he studied the patterns the wood made on the bier, "if Obi-Wan had stayed out of my way."

"He seems like the kind of person who wants to control everything," Jira said bitterly clutching a thorny stem tightly and drawing blood. "I tried to be nice–"

"You weren't born and bred a Jedi," Anakin replied allowing his anger to show through before quickly masking it. "You are beneath him." Prompted by the long silence Anakin turned to see Jira's hurt look. He tried to give her a friendly laugh. "Don't be too upset about that. I fall into the same category."

"But you are the hero of Naboo," the blond said in surprise.

"I was a slave before then."

"Oh." Jira whispered unable to understand how the young man could speak so plainly of a horrible past. Turning back to her duties, Jira hesitated, catching sight of Anakin's lightsaber hilt clipped to his utility belt. "I bet he never even offered his condolences."

The words seemed to catch the young man. Something elusive shifted in his blue eyes. "All he does is worry about that pathetic padawan of his," the apprentice growled. "The kid's supposed to be stupid or something what I heard." Fingers brushed across the cool stone of the bier. "Not even worthy of being a Jedi."

Jira suddenly piped up, "Master Kenobi will never understand all that you have given up and lost until he loses something just as precious to him."

"Exactly."

______________________

__

Holonet Broadcasting Company

"the Senate is convening. Supreme Chancellor Palpatine is expected to announce the passing of the war resolution"

________________

__

The Book of Keeping Innocence

Soft footsteps padded through the small apartment, stopping at the door to Bali's room. The doorframe creaked when Obi-Wan leaned up against it and studied the boy at his desk. For a short while, all he wanted was just to quietly stand there and wish the moment would never end.

Bali never looked up from his studies, but a rude chirp from the little PodBot quickly drew it away. The small green form rose up from the corner of the desk and let loose a series of agitated beeps and whistles at the master that had so terribly upset its boy. 

It flew at the Jedi master, but the apprentice reacted quickly, reaching with the Force and pulling the droid back to the safety of his hands. "Don't," the boy said softly to Warbler. "I'm supposed to be studying."

Sighing, Obi-Wan walked into the room and sat down on the edge of the sleep couch. "Padawan," he said firmly. 

"It's okay, Master," Bali said dully as he twisted the purring droid around in his hands. "I understand." He turned in his seat. "I should be there. I know I messed up, but I can do better."

Obi-Wan shook his head. "You didn't mess up, Padawan."

Frustration knitted the boy's brows together. He set the temporarily quiet PodBot back on the desk. "But I did and now you can't trust me on missions."

Reaching across the space between he and the boy, the Jedi master clasped Bali's creamy colored tunic and ripped the boy out of his chair. Bali stumbled forward and crashed into the sleep roll. Still clutching the boy's tunic, Obi-Wan pulled the padawan close until there were nearly nose-to-nose. "Listen, my very young padawan learner."

Bali squirmed against his master's hold while Warbler perked up. The gold and black antenna focused on its boy. "Master," the apprentice growled. 

"Who told you I can't trust you on missions?"

"You won't let me go."

Still holding Bali close, Obi-Wan explained, "That has nothing to do with it. Listen to me, Padawan, you survived a harrowing ordeal and I can't keep throwing you into these situations. You are too young to have to face all of this."

"But I'm a Jedi."

"And a little boy." Obi-Wan shook his head sadly. "I didn't have to face some of the things you have had to, but the things I did I have had to live with for a very long time. You have already faced the greatest enemy of the Jedi more times than most of your age mates have been outside the Temple. Take this, Padawan, and be a kid for a little while longer. Worry about homework and go swimming, because when it goes away, it is never coming back. This innocence will be forever lost."

"Master–"

"Don't argue with me." He loosened his grip of the child. Fingers lightly played with the flame tipped padawan braid. "I need you to stay here and be safe. I have to go and I can't do this and worry about you at the same time."

"Yes, Master," Bali answered weakly. "But Master Spex said–"

Pale blue eyes searched the unhappy padawan's bright green. "Do not worry about what Master Spex said, worry only about what I say." The words were gentle, yet radiated authority. "Understand?"

"Yes, Master." Bali looked up at the weary Jedi. "You're leaving now, aren't you?" 

Obi-Wan nodded. He brushed his fingers through the boy's short spiked hair eliciting a small smile from the padawan. "Finish out your day. Meet Bant and Liril at the dining hall."

Bali nodded even if he was struggling deep inside.

"Don't torture Liril, all right?"

"Yes, Master."

"I'll be back soon."

"Be careful," Bali said softly as his master slowly stood up. 

"Always, Padawan."

The boy watched his master leave all the time wishing he knew how to stop him. Instead, he just sat there until the Jedi had left the apartment. 

A soft chirp shattered the silence of the room.

"Come here," the boy said, reaching out for the tiny droid. Warbler rose from the desk and hovered across the short distance to the boy's outstretched hand. Holding onto the little droid, Bali stood and quickly gathered his lightsaber and cloak. Whispering to the green droid, Bali said, "After Master leaves, we'll go too."

___________________

The Book of the Master and Padawan Part XI

__

Several times throughout the night, Bali had been startled out of his nightmares but sleep and the black shrouded beast always returned. It was too much for one night. Ever so quietly, he had dragged a blanket into the small common room and curled up on the couch. It was soft and cushy under the twelve-year-old's sleep deprived body, but it did not ease him into a safe and sound slumber. He would just sit there until morning when the monster couldn't get to him. 

Under the folds of the blanket, Bali gripped the cylinder of his newly built lightsaber. He had worked so hard to pass the saber trials to earn the opportunity to build his own weapon. No more training saber for him. The Padawan smiled at the thought. It meant he wasn't a little kid anymore. He was a Jedi. His master had been very proud of him.

Clutching the weapon tight, he knew that no monsters could get him, not as long as he had a lightsaber and stayed awake. Everything would be all right.

"Padawan?" A sleepy voice called out from the darkened sleep rooms.

Bali remained frozen for a moment, then sighed loudly. "Yes, Master?"

The lights came up low just as a disheveled Obi-Wan wrapped himself in the folds of his cloak pausing only long enough to study the curled up figure. He rubbed sleepy eyes and walked over to the couch.

"I'm sorry," Bali said softly, shifting around under his blanket.

"For what?" The master asked sitting down next to the boy.

"Waking you up."

"Well, yes, I would rather be asleep. And I am certain you would too."

Bali quickly shook his head in an exaggerated no. 

"Oh." The ginger haired Jedi reached into the blanket and pulled out the lightsaber Bali still had a death grip on. "Want to talk about it?"

The boy frowned. He looked into his master's concerned expression and gave up. "Bad dreams."

Obi-Wan laughed tiredly, "Don't tell me, you dreamed you were before the Council and discovered you weren't wearing any clothes."

"No," Bali half laughed. "That's just silly."

"Really? I dream it all the time."

Bali giggled but then quickly sobered as he looked to his master for support. "There is this monster. It chases me."

"Maybe it wants something," Obi-Wan softly reasoned.

"It wants to be my Master."

Obi-Wan pulled the small apprentice closer. "Well, it is just a bad dream," he said defiantly. If he believed it, then so would Bali. 

"You won't let anyone else train me?"

"No, you are my padawan to torture."

Bali giggled and leaned back against his master's chest where maybe, for a little while, wrapped in his master's protective arms he would find a safe sleep. 

____________________

__

The Book of Explosive Conclusions

Qui-Gon Jinn stalked the curved corridor outside the massive Senate chamber. A thousand concerns raged under the calm surface but he knew he needed to gain control. The rage of emotions from the Senate was making it difficult to focus. Worse, he sensed something was afoot but could not place it. The agitation of the Senators made everything feel tense and difficult. 

The tall master suddenly stopped in the middle of the gently curving corridor. To his surprise his apprentice approached. Even if the young man was blocking their bond, he could see the relaxed nature on Anakin's face as he spoke to Jira Thelo. 

The two walked through the corridor, seemingly oblivious to the unrevealed danger. Anakin gave a small laugh at something the blond haired woman said. She was dressed in a pale blue robe of her station when the Senate was convened, its ill-fitting shape hung loosely off her, dragging unprofessionally against the floor. Her platinum ringlets were gently tied back giving her a slightly more distinguished look.

Or at least a less garish appearance, Qui-Gon decided. She would not detract from the Chancellor during the announcement of the resolution.

"Of course," Jira said with a weary smile as she continued down the corridor after the apprentice had stopped. 

"Padawan?" Qui-Gon asked, turning to watch Jira depart.

"I kept her too late," Anakin said softly, staring at the nearest entrance into the chamber. "I'm sure the Chancellor will be upset."

"He has too much on his mind to worry about an errant assistant," the elder Jedi said absently. "You do not–"

"Yes, Master, I do," Anakin argued. He kicked lightly at the carpet. "Padmé is addressing the Senate. Jira has to be here to assist the Chancellor and you are here. I would be alone, helping no one."

The tall master paused and studied the apprentice. There was something elusive in his bright blue eyes and he dearly wished the young man would open up to him. All he could sense was the pain. "Anakin–"

"I'm all right, Master. I need to be here." Turning, he stared helplessly at the large closed door. "How can we protect her from out here?"

"There is security stationed all about."

"I–we should be in there with her," Anakin said quickly as agitation bubbled under the surface.

"Jedi do not enter. We would lose neutrality if we stood at a politician's side."

"Even if it is only for protection?"

"Yes." Qui-Gon folded his arms into the sleeves of his cloak. "There are plenty of Jedi stationed around the chambers to act as protection. We will find the Sith."

* * * * *

Bali crouched in a small, recessed area. He struggled to keep his shields tight like his master had taught him. It would do no good to sneak away from the Temple only to get caught. He would be no help to his master. 

Reaching in into the layers of his tunic, the apprentice pulled out the small PodBot. Jarring the green shape, Bali whispered, "Wake up. We are here."

A soft chirrup filled the air.

"Shh," Bali quickly shushed Warbler. The boy stretched to see around a corner. It was clear. Holding tight to the little droid, Bali crept into the corridor and then sprinted toward another safe spot. From where he sat, he could study the communications unit. The red lights indicated the system was closed to anyone outside security channels. Letting the droid go Bali watched as Warbler hovered silently.

He grabbed his comm device and checked it, but only received static. He shook it and adjusted the channel. Still nothing but static. Shaking his head in frustration. "You think anyone knows?" he whispered to the little droid.

A soft, questioning chirp as the only reply. 

Bali sighed. "I can't find him without opening the training bond but then he would know I'm here. Master would very upset." Scrunching up his face again, he tried to connect to the secure channel. "We have to keep the important padawan away from Master. He wants to hurt him."

Warbler chirped. 

* * * * *

"Order! Order!" Mas Amedda yelled over the din in the Senate chamber. "The Chancellor--"

The thunder of cheers, applause, boos and hisses turned into a menacing roar. 

"Order!" Mas Amedda cried out.

From the Naboo delegation's pod, surrounded by other crafts filled with members of the Loyalist Committee, an elegantly dressed Senator Amidala turned to face a quiet Sirceé; silently she studied her faithful handmaiden and friend. "This is madness," the young Senator announced but went unheard over the noise. "The decision has already been made. The Senate voted, this is just the official announcement. Why fight it now?"

* * * * *

"You are late," Palpatine hissed as he adjusted his dark robes. In the background, Mas Amedda's pleas to the emotional crowd were heard. Yet, the Supreme Chancellor offered it little attention, instead a thin smile drew over his pale features. 

"Forgive me," Jira said as she rushed to the elder politician's side. "I was tending to preparations."

Palpatine's dark eyes focused on the quiet woman. "I trust everything is in order?"

"Yes."

"Good." He paused to study Jira's downcast eyes and then brushed a thin finger down the side of her face. "I expect Kenobi to be dead before the day is over or no amount of synth flesh will make you pretty again, my apprentice."

"Yes, Master."

"All rise for the Supreme Chancellor Palpatine!" Mas Amedda's voice rang out through the massive chamber. 

"My cue," Palpatine said softly as he stepped out of the shadows and approached the platform. 

* * * * *

Obi-Wan paused, pushing back the waves of heated emotion that rolled out of the Senate chamber. It was so powerful that it threatened to overwhelm him. Pulling at the edge of his cloak, he took a deep breath, releasing his frustration and worries into the Force. Unfortunately not all of it dissipated. He still worried about leaving Bali behind. 

The apprentice would learn, as he once did that it is all right to be left behind once and a while. Not all missions were for padawans.

He moved to a set of open doors, protected by two menacing Senate guards in black. The two figures paid the Jedi no attention as he stepped in, but remained within the shadows and watched the maddened Senate come to some resemblance of order. 

* * * * *

Inside the massive chamber, the roar dulled to an intense hum the moment Palpatine stepped up to the podium. "Senators," he announced, drawing their attention. "This has been a highly disputed vote, but you all must see that we are left with little choice. The Republic and all it stands for is endangered–"

As the Chancellor spoke, calming the crowd, the powder blue robe of the assistant fell to the floor revealing the ink black colors of her true station, that of a Sith. The garish mass of blond curls was ripped away, revealing tightly braided dark brown hair. Fingers hovered over the last remnants of Jira Thelo, the soft smooth face. But like the rest of the guise, it must also be shed. The synth flesh peeled away revealing a physically scarred Halla Keizian. 

From the shadows she stood in, her intense green gaze studied the back of the Chancellor's head. Briefly, she wondered what it would be like to remove it. 

Ever so slowly, her gaze reached out into the chamber, alighting on the collection of loyalists whose pods hovered closely together. Giving a small smile, her attention fluttered up to an opening in the massive wall of pods. Even in shadow she knew _he_ was there. Watching.

A wicked grin danced over her pale lips. It would be a spectacular show. Accepting the fate of the moment, she pulled a small device from her utility belt and activated it.

A Rodian craft hovering close to the Naboo delegation exploded in a blinding flash of fire and light. 

___________________________

__

The Book of Facing Fears

Even before the vibrations from the explosion rattled the building. Anakin was in motion. He shoved his way through the closed doors and slammed into the rush of Senator's scrambling away from the chamber. 

"Move!" He roared but the crush did not ease, threatening to shove him back into the curving corridor. Anakin drew on the Force and made a path. Senators were thrown aside easily making way for the Jedi apprentice. The young man leapt up on an empty platform and surveyed the damage even as panic was tightening its grip on him.

He would not lose another loved one. Not like this! 

Across the massive room, he could see the explosion damaged pods. But his attention remained firmly affixed to burning pod that slowly sank to the bottom of the deep chamber. 

*******

From the opening in the Senate chamber wall, Obi-Wan was forced to move out of the way of the maddened rush to escape. The entire chamber was a bubbling well of emotions that threatened to drown out all conscious thought. Tightening his shields against the onslaught, the Jedi master climbed up the intricate moulding that surrounded the entrance. Keen blue eyes quickly searched the scene until his gaze settled on Palpatine's craft. 

Mas Amedda was rushing about, commandeering the proper protection for the Chancellor. The red guards created a wall around the politician rushing him back across the platform into the safety of the hall. In the middle of the fray, Obi-Wan watched Halla step from the shadows, unnoticed by Palpatine's security. The red glow of the Sith's lightsaber activated as she started toward the escaping Chancellor.

"No!" He called out, gaining her attention all the while racing toward the dark clad figure over the hastily abandoned pods.

Halla's calm face turned to a wicked grin as she prepared for the rushing Jedi.

* * * * * 

Anakin bounded from one empty, listing senate pod to another. Every fiber of his being was focused on the slowly sinking craft of the Naboo delegation. Pulling on the Force, he guided it to aid his speed and leaping distance as he took one last bound. Air borne, the apprentice's dark tunic fluttered through the wind. 

"Padmé!" he screamed, panic tearing his throat raw.

The pod shuddered with the impact of his landing. Twisting about and bringing his hand up, Anakin Force pushed the flames from the debris putting the small fire out.

Trembling hands pulled the charred form from the floor revealing Sirceé's peaceful expression. It did not take Force sensitivity to know the young woman was dead. Killed protecting the Senator. Shifting the still form to the side, the Jedi found the object of his desires. A gentle probe through the Force revealed that the rumpled form of Senator Amidala was still alive. Carefully he drew the singed figure into his arms, cradling her bruised and blooded head. 

"Padmé," he whispered softly. Trembling fingers brushed over her lips. Relief was found in her warm, moist breath. "Stay with me," he whispered. "I need you."

"Anakin?"

"Shh, it wall be all right. I promise."

********

Bali withdrew a little deeper into his hiding place as the corridor suddenly became packed with escaping senators. He held tightly to the PodBot wishing it would stop. There was so much panic and fear coursing through the building he was afraid of being drowned in emotion. 

Warbler pulled at the boy's tight grip. It chirped in frustration before finally breaking free and bolting into the crush of dignitaries.

"No!" Bali cried out, grasping the air but his small friend was gone. The apprentice sank a little deeper into the recessed wall.

Realizing he couldn't help his master just sitting there, Bali leapt to his feet and ran into the mass exodus. No one paid him any attention, preferring to run him into the ground than pause to go around him. The apprentice struggled not to be knocked down.

In the center of the corridor, Bali felt a sharp pain in his ankle. A very large, green alien had landed a heavy foot in the midst of the boy's. Bali yelped, pulling his smashed foot free. Limping the rest of the way, he finally made it to the other side.

Pressed tight against the wall. Bali spied the tiny green Warbler. The droid had extended its arm and was removing a small maintenance panel near the ceiling. Sliding against the wall so not to be trampled by the crowd, Bali closed in on the little droid. "What are you doing?" 

Warbler chirruped, then flew into the opening. The electrician bot zipped through the narrow wall space along the mass of conduits to a shielded communications transfer box. Without hesitation, the small droid opened a panel and went to work on the ill-functioning comm system.

* * * * *

Gently, Anakin scooped Padmé off the debris-strewn floor and held her close as he quickly glanced about the empty chamber. 

Almost empty. 

Blue and red sabers flashed as Obi-Wan and Vengier engaged in battle.

Anakin burned bright.

________________________

__

The Book of Conflicting Emotions

Barely a few steps ahead of the maddened senators, Qui-Gon raced along the slowly curving corridor. His mind leapt through mental hoops. This was a different move for the Sith assassin. All of her previous attacks were up close and personal. Still, he knew without question that if she was there, the Chancellor was in danger.

Given the range of emotions emanating from his padawan, he could not tell the Naboo senator's condition. Rage bled from the young man's shielded mind. The concern mounted in the usually collected Jedi Master. _Anakin!_ He called through their bond. _Anakin!_

The mass exodus was quickly clogging the halls of the Senate building. Qui-Gon knew he would never be able to make it into the chamber until everyone had left. All he could do was see to Palpatine's safety.

Fumbling as he ran, he activated his comm device but found static. Not particularly surprised by the revelation, he was shocked to see the Chancellor's private guard surrounding the politician in the middle of the hall. 

"This is highly disturbing, Master Jedi," Palpatine said almost irritably. "I cannot just abandon my post like a foundering ship."

"Your security is correct," Qui-Gon said, coming to a stop before Palpatine. "We must evacuate you from the building."

"I have a resolution to declare–"

"It can wait," the graying master snapped as the dark brown of his cloak swept out, guiding the argumentative politician toward his private landing. While he admired the politician's dedication to duty, Palpatine was still a politician and not to be trusted. Again he tried to motion the obstinate man toward safety, wondering briefly why he was refusing to seek safety.

Palpatine remained steadfast. While he did not possess the Jedi's height, he more than made it up with exuded authority. "I do not believe the Republic can wait."

"Nor can it survive without its leader," Qui-Gon debated. 

* * * * *

Blue flashed as Obi-Wan easily intercepted the Sith's maddened attack. He knew what it was, had fought this enemy before and felt the blind hatred flowing from the black clad figure. This Sith was no different from the one he had battled back on Naboo.

Except it had Halla's green eyes. 

Darth Vengier as she was now called, viscously attacked, but her efforts were wasted as Obi-Wan deflected the deadly crimson blade. She growled, "Should have killed you when I had the chance."

Obi-Wan didn't answer. He didn't want to know what chance. Instead he blocked another wild attack, ducking under the Sith's defenses and thrusting the blue blade into the mass of darkness. 

The pained cry barely sounded human as the Sith leapt back clutching her side. "I don't think it's going to be that easy."

On guard, he slowly approached the figure. "Who are you?" the Jedi demanded.

The long mass of small dark braided hair fell back over her shoulders, as Vengier let out a wicked laugh. "Come on, Obi, has it been that long?" Hissing in pain, she retreated from the Jedi. She stumbled, struggling. "You hurt me," she groaned. The silver cylinder dropped from her fingers as her hand fell to her side. Her jewel green eyes raised to her former lover. Opening her red painted lips to say something, there was a slight tremor. Her eyelids fluttered and she limply fell forward. 

Instinctively, Obi-Wan reached for her. As the injured woman fell forward, the vibroshiv she kept concealed in the layers of the dark shroud tightened in her grip. Lightning quick reflexes drove the small weapon toward the Jedi.

* * * * *

Bali stared down into the hall. All that remained were a few slower species, rushing as fast as they could for escape. "Warbler!" he called up into the open panel but received no friendly beeps. Shaking his head, he knew he could not stay there. He had to find his master.

Hoping the little droid was okay; he bounded through the corridor. The apprentice did not get far before a long, thin hand grasped his arm. He cried out in surprise but quickly gained control of himself. Facing a small, frail looking Jedi, the boy struggled for calm, while silently chastising himself for not listening to the Force. 

"Are you lost, Padawan?" the smooth gray and white skinned alien asked as her dark round eyes studied the surprised apprentice.

"I must go to my master," Bali said quickly. 

The Jedi who seemed too small and delicate to be in the middle of this disaster tried to call up the comm channel on her hand held device. "You are too young to be running around alone."

"I must–"

"Your master's name?"

Bali's shoulders sank. "Master Kenobi." He would not let her stop him.

Static buzzed from the small communication device. "Is he helping with the evacuations?"

"I'm not sure."

The Jedi continued to struggled with the comm. "You should stay close until we find–"

"My master needs me. I must go." Without hesitation, Bali sprinted down the corridor. He reminded himself that it wasn't a lie. His master needed him, even if Obi-Wan didn't know it yet.

* * * * *

The thunder of the fleeing politicians had dissipated leaving the corridor eerily quiet save for a soft worried voice. "Don't worry. I'll find help. It will be all right."

"Anakin, please–"

"It's okay. Everything will be okay," Anakin continued to whisper. Then looked out into the empty corridor. The fearful expression was not easily calmed. "Help me!" He screamed. 

"Anakin," Padmé whispered, cradled in his arms as he sought help. "Anakin."

"It will be all right," he kept promising. 

She hurt inside and out. Especially the pounding of her head. All she remembered was complaining about the senate and a bright flash. Sirceé's warning her to get down. 

Sirceé!

"Where is she?" Padmé asked, struggling against the strong arms that carried her.

Something shifted in Anakin's eyes. "Gone," he said after a long pause. "She's gone."

The physical pain was nothing compared to the grief that washed through her. Tears welled and traced down her roughened cheeks, stinging terribly. "No," Padmé moaned, unable to do much else. Seeking safety and comfort in the pounding heartbeat of the young man who held her.

Anakin suddenly paused. "Master says the Chancellor is holding his ship. If we hurry, I can get you to safety."

"You're not coming?" Padmé nearly cried. "No, don't leave me."

Aided the Force, the young man sprinted through the hall toward the Chancellor's private landing. "It will only be for a little while," he breathed. "Then you will be safe and they will pay for causing you harm. I promise."

* * * * *

Reacting to the Sith's devious attack, Obi-Wan shifted just enough to avoid being stabbed. Locking his arm around hers, he pinned the former Jedi apprentice. In one fluid motion, a step forward, he ripped her feet out from beneath her. 

Vengier grunted as she was thrown to the ground. The fight not easily taken out of her and the vibroshiv still tight in her grip, she twisted about only to be caught in the Jedi's tight grip. "Your weakness–"

Throwing herself backward, Halla pulled the Jedi with her.

"–is believing the enemy will–"

A black boot sent the Jedi flying over her head.

"–fight fair."

Bounding to her feet, Vengier lunged at the Jedi, slamming them both into the wall of the Chancellor's platform. Obi-Wan reached, calling his weapon to him. Blue flashed searing the vibroshiv blade off. 

Tossing the shiv's handle away, Vengier lashed out at the Jedi, the heel of her boot just grazing his chin. A swift hand caught her ankle and flipped the shrouded figure over. Vengier slammed into the floor but turned hard catching the Jedi by the foot and knocking him off balance. She spun, drawing her weapon across the platform, but before grasping it, Obi-Wan kicked it away. 

Vengier cried out in anger. Reaching she directed a powerful Force push at the Jedi but not before he grasped her wrist. Both were sent tumbling over the edge of the platform. The synth flesh covered mechanical hand grasped a small bar beneath the platform. Obi-Wan held tight to her wrist, dangling far above the chamber floor even as the glowing blue of his lightsaber tumbled to the floor. 

______________________

__

The Book of Maddening Situations

A few chirps as the little electrician bot spoke with freshly adjusted communications transfer box. A series of colorful lights lit up on the panel before falling into a steady pattern. Satisfied with the patch job, Warbler traced its route back along the conduit. 

Popping out of the open panel in the wall, the PodBot searched the empty corridor for its boy. A few questioning chirrups sounded, but no answer was received. The little droid zipped about, chirping ever few meters as it searched the hall.

********

Qui-Gon stomped around irritably waiting for his apprentice to arrive. All about this day had disturbed him and yet the answer remained elusive. Granted there were great stress all around but a small part of him worried about Anakin.

The boy, who had always shown his emotions broadly, even when he should not, had been strangely quiet since his mother died. Shielded. 

The small, high-pitched beeping of his communication device interrupted his reveries. The tall Jedi master paused his agitated stalking. "Jinn speaking."

The open channel crackled. "Need help on the transport level."

"The Chancellor's security–"

"No, no," the obstinate politician butted in pushing his way passed his guard. "Go, as soon as Senator Amidala arrives, we will depart. My security will be plenty."

"I must–"

"You must do your duty Master Jedi. We will wait only long enough for your padawan to arrive. No longer."

The tall master studied the politician. There was something

"Master Jinn," the voice crackled from the comm. "We are being overwhelmed with panicked diplomats, we need–"

"Coming," Qui-Gon said sternly holding long enough to study the politician then marched down the corridor. Behind him, he heard the Chancellor's guard move to better secure the area.

*******

Long dark braids shifted as Vengier twisted from the bar she held to. Staring down the dark shroud, her bright green eyes focused on the Jedi hanging desperately from her gloved hand. "Funny," she laughed unsettled by the situation, "you were always so willing to let go of me before."

"Halla–"

"I am Vengier!" she screamed, jerking her trapped wrist in a wild attempt to free herself.

Obi-Wan struggled but was thrown loose of the Sith. His brown cloak twisted about him as he tumbled through the air past the senatorial pods. Struggling out of his cloak, the Jedi held tight but flung the edges out snagging the material on an antenna sticking out of one of the pods.

The cloak ripped, but held allowing the Jedi's momentum to carry him around to another floating pod. He crashed into the circular craft sending it gliding back against the small platform it was stationed in front of. Bounding to his feet, Obi-Wan looked up in time to see the shrouded figure bound up onto the Chancellor's platform.

He couldn't let her get away. She, whoever she believer herself to be, could not be allowed to maintain her killing spree. Reaching over the pod wall, Obi-Wan spied his fallen lightsaber several levels below. Taking a few slow, deep breaths, he stretched his hand out. The silver cylinder trembled slightly, bouncing across the floor of the platform it laid on. The saber hilt then became airborne and flew up to the Jedi. Securing the weapon to his utility belt, Obi-Wan bounded back up the pods to the empty platform.

Breathing heavily, he glanced around, seeking the darkness, tainted with a trace of Halla Keizian's Force signature.

*******

"Master!" Anakin called out as he approached the tall Jedi. "Help."

Qui-Gon stopped at the sight of his distraught apprentice and the unconscious Senator in his arms. "Take her to the Chancellor's private landing pad." He started to walk away, but sensed Anakin's hesitation and turned. "The Chancellor will see that she is taken care of. Meet me on the transport level."

"Yes, Master," Anakin answered absently as he took off in the direction Qui-Gon had just come from. "It will be okay," he whispered to Padmé as he sprinted toward the gathering of security. "The Senator, she's injured!" he called out as several of the armed figures reached out and relieved the apprentice of Padmé.

"Thank the gods," Palpatine said with a heavily relieved sigh as he pushed close to the scene. Turning his weary gaze to the young Jedi, the Chancellor promised, "We will take care of her. It is twice I owe you. And three times if you put down those responsible for this."

"They will pay, Chancellor," Anakin replied evenly. "I will see to it."

_________________________

__

The Book of Perceived Danger

Halfway to the Chancellor's platform, Obi-Wan stopped. Standing in the midst of a pod, he twisted about. It would do him no good to search for the dark Force. She was too good at hiding it.

Casting out, the Jedi zeroed in on the once familiar signature of Halla Keizian. Moving to a covered pilot control panel he opened it and guided the pod across the wide expanse of the Senate chamber. 

Brushing sweat dampened ginger hair from his forehead, he slowed the craft just before reaching an entrance and leapt out of it. Activating his lightsaber, he tore into the gradually curving corridor. "Not so fast."

Vengier stood frozen at the end of the Obi-Wan's lightsaber. Her bright green eyes flashed in surprise. "Seems I underestimated you," the Sith purred. Lightning reflexes sent the crimson blade in attack. 

Obi-Wan blocked, defending against the maddened woman. He drove her back through the hall. There were no words to answer her. She was the enemy and he had only one responsibility. Stop her at any cost.

"You just want to get me alone," Vengier teased, backing into the Senate Chamber again. "Maybe there's a closet around here." Laughing wickedly, the Sith leapt to a nearby pod and directed it into the open center. All around her, empty Senate crafts glided out from their wall stations. 

"Come and get me!" Vengier howled into the intercom.

Without questioning that she was leading him further from help and back up, the Jedi followed.

* * * * *

Chasing the gentle curve of the corridor, Anakin ran through the spiral toward his master's dominating presence. Even through the purposely-choked bond, the apprentice sensed Qui-Gon's frustration. Something about herding wild nerf in an electrical storm would be easier than dealing with panic stricken senators. 

The Jedi padawan could not help a bit of laughter at his master's thoughts. The gently sloping floor did little to hinder his speed as he rushed toward the transport level.

"Come and get me!" Vengier's voice echoed out of the massive chamber in the center of the political structure. 

Anakin froze.

* * * * *

Bali stopped, huffing lightly. Visually he searched the quiet section of corridor he stood in. His quickly fixed his attention on his master inside the chamber.

He was mid level and had to race along the gentle uphill to find an opening. A small part of him trembled, knowing his master would be upset for disobeying him, but Bali knew he had to be there. 

Through the lightly squeezed training bond, Bali could feel Obi-Wan's tenseness and concern. There was strain and it worried Bali. The little padawan had known his master was not ready to go out on such a mission. He was not yet fully recovered from injuries suffered in previous days and yet the Council sent him. 

Something caught him. It was not physical but the power of it brought the apprentice to a stand still. It was the same sensation from the Jedi Council chamber.

Hate.

Even if he had felt it happen only a few hours earlier, it could have been a lifetime ago, and he would still recognize the intensity behind it and whom it was directed toward. 

All Bali knew was he had to hurry.

* * * * *

"Leave me," Padmé bellowed to the guards but when she turned, they and the Chancellor were mysteriously gone. The pain in her head was too much for her to even care why. A pale hand pressed to the bleeding gash at her hairline as she stumbled, clinging to the wall searching for Anakin.

* * * * *

Slow, deliberate footsteps brought Anakin to the nearest chamber entrance. He watched the black shrouded figure leap from one gently gliding pod to another. She, as he now could see without question, would pay for murdering his mother. That was Anakin's silent promise to the woman who had given him life. Shmi Skywalker's death would be avenged. 

His attention slowly withdrew from the Sith drunk with the battle and focused on the pursuing Jedi. Obi-Wan easily leapt from pod to pod, closing in on Vengier.

The Sith was his kill! Anakin was reminded of the earlier battle and knew he could not allow Obi-Wan to finish her off. Besides, if the Jedi had stayed out of the way in the first place, the Sith beast would be dead and his mother still alive. 

Drawing the Force close like a cloak, the young man reached out. 

* * * * *

Obi-Wan paused to get a bearing on his surroundings. Vengier continued her assent as pods created a makeshift staircase to the top of the domed ceiling. Disguised in the sea of gray was a maintenance access panel that Vengier seemed to be targeting. 

Not willing to let her escape, the Jedi leapt up the next pod and bounded to another. Just as he landed, the pod suddenly jerked sending the Jedi tumbling several meters before barely catching the edge of another pod. 

* * * * *

"No!" Bali screamed racing toward the distracted older apprentice. Leaping into the air, the smaller boy tackled Anakin about mid chest and they both slammed into the ground. Bali was tossed free and rolled to his feet. Reaching out with the Force, he slammed an emergency button on a security box. 

Sirens blared throughout the Senate building and protective doors slid closed sealing the Senate chamber off from the rest of the building. An unused security measure against internal attack, the heavy doors locked into place.

Anakin responded and tried to deactivate the security feature but Bali was just half a step ahead. The violet of his lightsaber flashed and he sliced into the wall just below the panel. 

Sparks flew in a blinding flash and filled the section of corridor with the stench of fried wiring and gray plumes of smoke.

* * * * *

Qui-Gon twisted sensing it a moment before the sirens sounded. A surge of rage rippled through his training bond with Anakin before crashing closed. 

__

Anakin!

Pushing through the mass of flesh, Qui-Gon fought to free himself of the crush of senator's trying to force themselves into escape ships. 

__

Anakin, no!

* * * * *

Bali shook the disabled lightsaber. He still was not adept at using it and had allowed it be hit with the power surge when he cut the line to the security panel.

"That was a very silly thing to do," Anakin said evenly as he rose to his feet, a dark gaze never left the brown haired boy still on the floor.

"I'm protecting my Master," Bali said defensively as he too crawled to his feet.

"By trapping him with the Sith?"

"By keeping you away."

_________________

__

The Book of the Abandoned

"Ani?" Padmé half sobbed as she stumbled through the long curving corridor. "Where are you, Ani?" Her legs wobbled unevenly and she slid to the floor. "I need you."

* * * * *

"Tenacious to the last," Vengier hissed as she struggled to keep ahead of the Jedi. "You are not even going to speak to me? We used to talk all the time in the mediation garden." Guiding a pod close to the ceiling, she reached out and Force shoved the panel out of the way. 

"Vengier!" Obi-Wan called out.

The Sith paused, her bright green eyes focusing on her pursuer. Those pale blue eyes told her it never mattered what face she wore, there was no place for here in his life, not as long as his first love was the Jedi Order. It had been hard to accept her master's decree that the Jedi must die. 

Now, she possessed no reservations. 

"You feel betrayed," Vengier hissed even as she moved closer to the opening.

"I feel nothing for you." The Jedi bounded up to the edge of the pod the Sith was trying to escape. 

His words made her stop and face him again. "Jedi do not lie." 

Obi-Wan held his saber defensively between them. "Am I?"

"No, I suppose you are not." She feinted an attack and when the Jedi moved to defend, Vengier leapt up through the open panel and vanished into the shadows above.

* * * * *

__

Anakin! Qui-Gon roared through the training bond but knew he wasn't getting through. _Anakin!_

Pushing through the last of the crowd, he broke into the open corridor. As the Jedi master sprinted toward his apprentice's bright Force signature he kept calling to the young man but the bond was gone. At first, he didn't want to admit it, but as each moment passed he grew more certain of its severance. 

* * * * *

Bali retreated a step. 

"You've caused a lot of trouble," Anakin said slowly. "The Council will kick you out of the Order."

A worried expression studied the other. "Master won't let them."

Anakin laughed weakly approaching the little padawan. "My mother is dead," he said plainly.

"Never knew mine," Bali replied. Fear danced in the bright green depths of his eyes. Even in this moment of terror, the small padawan's thoughts leapt back to recent conversations with his master. "I hope I have brothers and sisters so my parents won't be lonely."

"I was an only child."

The wall stopped Bali's retreat. The important padawan looked so tall and the younger apprentice had to strain his neck to meet the intense gaze. "I know my parents sacrificed a lot to give me to the Jedi. All I want to do is make them proud. Make their sacrifice worth something."

Anakin stopped.

"I am Jedi," Bali said proudly small hands wringing together nervously.

Uncertainty shifted in Anakin's bright blue gaze. Pain echoed in his voice, "So what? That makes you special?"

"Yes, of course he is," a gravelly voice entered the conversation.

Anakin spun activating his saber only to face the black clad form of Sidious. "You!" he cried out furiously.

Sidious seemed to glide across through the hall to the two padawans. "Oh, no, I did not murder your mommy," the dark lord mocked. "That was my apprentice. The one Master Kenobi is battling as we speak." Pale fingers waved at the sealed door as he turned shrouded eyes to Anakin. "Of course you know that."

Anakin straightened. 

"Ah, young Skywalker, I can feel the hate rolling off of you, your desire for revenge."

"You don't know anything!" Anakin barked. 

Bali silently crept away from the Sith. He had already faced this one and did not want to do it again.

Sidious laughed. "I know you better than your master does. I know you severed the training bond."

A sharp inhale was Anakin's only reply.

Wicked, evil laughter filled the corridor as he settled his gaze on the small escaping padawan. "You wanted to see the little one hurt. Make Kenobi suffer like you do."

Bali's terror filled eyes widened as he froze against the wall.

"Oh, don't be afraid, I won't let him harm you," Sidious said before turning his taunts back to Anakin. "He should be more worried about that meddling senator of his."

* * * * *

Obi-Wan paused before following Vengier into the false dome. For a moment, so brief, he thought he sensed Bali nearby. Quickly banishing the thought, knowing the boy was safe at the Temple, the Jedi pulled himself up into the darkness.

* * * * *

"Padmé," Anakin exhaled. He moved so quickly that the little padawan behind him did not have a chance. He slammed into the boy and knocked Bali to the floor in his hasty retreat. 

He had not even felt her pain until the moment the Sith mentioned her. It came rushing at him; all the hurt and fear slammed into the Jedi.

Desperation allowed him to nearly fly over the marble floor in his rush to get to his heart's desire. Panic made the young man reach out on the Force searching for the warmth of Padmé. He never slowed once he found her. The Force enhanced his speed.

"Padmé!" He cried out at the sight of the beautiful, but bloodied woman on the floor. 

"Ani?" she groaned reaching for him.

"You were supposed to leave on the Chancellor's ship. Get your injuries treated."

"Had to find you," she whispered as she wrapped her arms around his neck. "I was afraid for you."

______________________________

__

The Book of Running Out of Time

"Still chasing me after all of these years!" Vengier hissed. Turning, she sprinted along a narrow series of catwalks that crisscrossed the dimly lit space above the senatorial chamber. Her speed caused the metal to quiver and rattle violently. 

Obi-Wan bolted over the twisting mass, quickly closing in on the Sith. Vengier had other plans; she spun igniting her lightsaber. The crimson blade flashed through the darkness slicing through the catwalk's supports just as she leaped to a short ladder hanging from the ceiling. 

Metal screamed and buckled, nearly taking the Jedi with it. Using the Force, Obi-Wan leapt from the collapsing walkway and caught another more stable section. He turned on the Sith just in time to be blinded by the bright Coruscant sun. Vengier had shoved a small door in the ceiling open exposing the dimly lit area to a wash of golden light.

Running the length of the walkway, Obi-Wan bounded through the air, snagging the ladder. The rough crosspieces dug into his hands as he pulled himself up several steps until he managed a foothold.

The sun was so bright, nearly blinding the Jedi. From the top of the Senate Building he could see all of Coruscant's political structures. If he strained, in the rich blue distance, he could almost make out the center spire of the Jedi Temple. 

Or maybe he was imagining being so close to home.

Turning into the cool wind, Obi-Wan sought out the escaping Sith. Running along maintenance paths, he quickly caught up to her. "Stop!"

Vengier twisted, her weapon arm extended holding the silver cylinder at ready. "Or what? You going to stop me?"

For every step the Jedi took forward, Vengier retreated. A deliciously wicked smile danced over her red painted lips. 

He slashed through the air, relieving Vengier of part of her shroud. The pieces of black material fluttered through the air, the wind carrying them over the edge into the city below. "How could you betray everything you had been taught?" he demanded.

"Who betrayed what?" The Sith asked, pulling the black cloak off, sending the shroud tumbling across the roof. "The Order betrayed me when they took away my child."

"I researched the mission report, you were injured on a mission," Obi-Wan said coolly.

"Injured because they sent me on that mission!" Vengier screamed. 

"You followed your master on that mission. It was your choice. You were injured doing your duty. No one but those that attacked you are to blame," the Jedi said evenly.

Vengier's dark braids twisting against her black tunic when she shook her head defiantly. "All lies. You're just as responsible."

"You don't believe that, Halla."

"I am Vengier!" She screamed, rushing the Jedi. 

* * * * *

Bali remained frozen on the floor where he had landed. His breathing was quick and shallow as he searched the corridor for his lightsaber that he had dropped. 

"Such a brave little boy," Sidious taunted drawing close to the apprentice. 

The hanging black hood masked the Sith's face, but Bali imagined a vile, wicked creature under the material and was thankful for the mask. "Stay back," he warned as he crawled backward over the marble floor. Spying his lightsaber, the boy reached out for it. The silver cylinder bounded across the floor before leaping to the boy's hand. Flipping over, he got to his feet bringing his weapon forward, yet the damaged lightsaber did not ignite. 

Terror filled the glassy green depths as Bali's gaze fell to the broken weapon. He quickly retreated another step, struggling to activate the violet blade.

Nothing happened.

Panic raced through the small, dark haired padawan. Opening the training bond, Bali reached for his master, desperately needing help.

"Oh, no, I can't have you doing that," Sidious hissed, pulling on the Force he strangled the bond between the boy and his master. "Wouldn't want to disturb your master, now would we?"

"Stay back," Bali warned shaking the saber hilt at the Sith master.

Sidious laughed. "Come, little one, you are going to share Master Spex's secrets with me."

* * * * *

__

Anakin!

Still no answer and the graying Jedi master was quickly resigning himself to the fact there would never be one. Yet he could not stop. His padawan was doing something foolish and dangerous. Anakin was opening himself for temptation from the dark side. 

__

Anakin!

If his thoughts had been more focused, the aging Jedi master would have noticed the ache in his joints and muscles. He would have noticed how easily he became short of breath. If he could only slow down he would have noticed how his age had crept up on it. 

He was too old to start over with a new padawan. Too old to make things right. 

Too old and too set in his ways to see the way things were turning. Too blind to see problems but he couldn't stop running. Time was running out. He had felt the momentary flare of darkness before it was suddenly and mercilessly closed to him. 

Heavy boots thundered against the floor. He had to run faster. 

He couldn't be too late.

* * * * *

Warbler chirped as it picked up speed through the gently curving corridor. Weaving about, the tiny PodBot continued its search for the missing boy. 

"Don't be afraid, little one, the pain will not last long."

A wild series of beeps ripped through the droid at the sight of its boy struggling to free himself of the black cloaked figure. 

"Let go!" Bali cried out, trying to pull loose from the pale but powerful grip around his arm. 

Warbler extended the small repair arm activating the soldering tip. The green droid zipped forward, jabbing at the Sith lord. All the while it beeped and whistled wildly as it zoomed in for another attack.

Sidious turned, a pale hand reached from the safety of the billowing black sleeves and blue lightning arced from his fingertips. Warbler let out a pained cry just before the charred green body dropped to the floor with a clang.

_______________________

__

The Book of the Brave

"No!" Bali cried out at the sight of the destroyed PodBot smoldering on the floor. "No," he sobbed wishing only to run to the broken droid and take care of it.

Thin but strong fingers tightened around the boy's throat. Bali struggled, gasping for air. Defenseless against the blue arcs of lightning that leapt from Sidious' fingers directly into the tender flesh of his neck the young padawan screamed in pain. 

The dark lord laughed. 

After only a few powerful jolts, Bali sank to his knees. Thick tears streamed down his cheeks as he whimpered in pain. "No," he cried out softly. In the deep shadows of the Sith's hood, Bali could see the lightning reflected in cruel eyes. More jolts shook the boy, but it wasn't what scared him the most. Darkness, thick and suffocating pressed against his shields. Every time he tried to struggle to get free more Sith lightning rippled through him. The apprentice tried to tighten his shields but the waves of pain from another electrifying attack rendered him nearly senseless. 

"No," he mumbled unable to do any more as the Sith invaded his shields. It tore into his mind searching, shifting about. Terror filled pale green eyes sought the features of his attacker but the shadows protected the Sith's identity. Purple clung to his lips as they trembled. 

He didn't want to give away Master Spex's secrets. 

__

But you will.

Bali shrieked at the inky voice that echoed in his mind. He screamed as more jolts leapt from the Sith's hands to the side of his face. 

__

Tell me and the pain will go away.

After a few more moments of suffering Bali gave in to the Sith's demands and suddenly opened his shields. He threw every word, every whisper the dying Tomenaar had spoken at the Sith.

Sidious violently ripped free of the boy causing Bali to fall to the floor with a dull thud. 

"No!" Sidious roared. "I won't allow it!"

Too hurt and too weak to escape, Bali managed to pushed himself into a sitting position. A trembling hand roughly wiped the tears away. He would not run. No crying. Memory of the vid of Ben'al Houk's death came to him. Fuzzy memories focused on the serene, accepting expression of the Sith killer of long ago as he prepared to die. 

The padawan knew his master would do the same. 

He would be brave too.

Finding control, Sidious turned on the calmly waiting boy. "Spex was a fool imparting his tale's to a child." 

Bali slowly closed his eyes as the Sith raised his hand. Maybe he wasn't as brave as he wished.

"Shall we share this with your master?" Arcs of blue danced from Sidious' fingertips. Wicked laughter pealed from the Sith lord as he let loose stream after stream of Force lightning. "Die, little padawan. Die!"

* * * * *

Vengier raced across the sloping dome occasionally pausing to strike out at the pursuing Jedi. At the narrow lip just before the edge, she wildly attacked, nearly sending Obi-Wan over the edge. The Jedi countered, forcing Vengier into a quick retreat.

The Sith's footfalls landed dangerously close to the gently curving rim. Obi-Wan did not back down, one powerful strike after another made it difficult for Vengier to keep her balance. Yet the Jedi never relented.

"You think by killing me, you rid yourself of your ghosts?" Vengier demanded trying to gain the upper hand. 

"I am only killing a Sith," Obi-Wan replied coolly.

Angered by the response, she spat, "So determined." Then the Sith laughed even as she was nearly pushed over the edge by the attack. Raising her weapon, she deactivated the crimson blade.

Obi-Wan froze, not knowing how to respond to the Sith's strange action. Vengier stretched her weapon bearing hand out over the edge. A calm smile crossed her red lips as she released the weapon. Silently the saber fell tumbled straight down the side of the Senate Building.

Slowly the Jedi brought his saber up defensively. She would not play him again.

"Never imagined it would be so easy to lead you away." She smiled. You can't run fast enough."

"What?" Split seconds more and the answer was provided as the training bond exploded with his apprentice's pain. "Bali–"

The distraction was all she needed. Vengier lunged forward sending both she and the Jedi over the ledge.

Thoughts in such a tailspin that Obi-Wan almost could not react. Falling nearly a dozen stories before he managed to call to the Force for help, he managed to grasp a viewing deck rail. The black clad figure fell passed but managed to clasp tight to the Jedi's ankle. The suddenly added weight wrenched the Obi-Wan's hold free.

Addled with the terrified rush of pain through the training bond, he was barely coherent enough to grab the grappling line from his utility belt. Launching the hooked end, it tangled around a small protrusion on the viewing deck. 

The line instantly pulled taut nearly jerking Obi-Wan loose. The Jedi, with the Sith still holding firmly to his ankle swung through the air. Vengier was intent on taking him with her and struggled wildly to shake him loose. 

The line was slicing into his hands as he twisted, glancing down the side of the building until he found another viewing deck a dozen stories below. Pushing back his padawan's terror, he focused the Force on the line and moved to make it swing a little. Just a little more, a little further. 

__

Coming, Padawan.

With sufficient momentum, the Jedi released the line and tumbled toward the deck below. He slammed into the rail. Pain laced through his chest but was mildly satisfied in that his feet were firmly against the deck floor. 

The falling Vengier grasped the Jedi's tunic and nearly pulled him over the edge but her grip wasn't enough and she slipped. Instinctively Obi-Wan reached for her, grasping the gloved hand only briefly before it slipped through his fingers. 

"Halla!"

Within an instant the Sith was nothing more than a shrinking black mass as she fell. 

___________________

__

The Book of Dying

In the end, Vengier was correct Obi-Wan would not get there in time. The weary Jedi sprinted through the very quiet building not slowing for anything. Nothing mattered at that moment except for getting to Bali. 

The life or death of Vengier meant little to him. Others would have to deal with it. Bali was his only concern. The apprentice's pain filled cries that had torn through the training bond had been heartbreaking enough, but the sudden silence had nearly stopped the master's heart. 

The gently curving corridor allowed him to see the scene long before he reached it. His heart lurched at the sight of Qui-Gon Jinn kneeling silently next to his large, rumpled cloak on the tile floor. The graying Jedi glanced up, the bit of surprise in deep blue eyes turned to a deep sadness. Upon closer approach, the rumpled dark brown cloak revealed a small figure wrapped in the warm folds. The boy's peaceful features reminded the Jedi of the first night in the new apartment with the eight-year-old padawan. The boy had looked so small and fragile twisted in his covers. In five years, nothing had changed.

Grief rippled through the Force reflecting the young master's pain as he slowed. The last few steps seemed terribly difficult and the Jedi collapsed at the boy's side. "No."

Qui-Gon silently studied his former apprentice, then slowly reached out placing a large comforting hand to Obi-Wan's shoulder. "I have called for help," he said softly, then quietly retreated leaving the younger master alone with the boy, knowing those brief moments were all they had left. 

Trembling fingers pressed to the boy's cool forehead. "Padawan," Obi-Wan whispered. Sensing the fragile life force, he gently pulled the thirteen-year-old into his arms. Bali's head rested against his master's chest as the Jedi held onto the fading spirit. "Don't go," Obi-Wan whispered pressing a cheek to the smashed brown spikes. "Don't."

Green eyes fluttered open briefly. They were dull and unfocused. Bali gave a relieved smile. "Master," he breathed. The boy's fading light flared briefly, sharing the joy of his master's presence.

"Shh," Obi-Wan replied sending Bali strength through their fading bond. "Save your strength. Help is coming." He struggled against the terror that was building in him. Uncontrollably the Jedi rocked the small form. "Don't go," he begged as tears welled in his eyes. "I can'tno."

"Master," Bali repeated as if trying to draw strength from the word. "I was brave," his voice trailed off.

"Always, Padawan."

"Saved you." There was a long paused before Bali's dull gaze sought his master again. "Kept him away. Hurt. Wanted to hurt–"

"Hush," Obi-Wan whispered. "Save your strength. You are going to be all right."

"I was brave," the dying boy mumbled. "Like you. A Jedi."

"Yes. You are a Jedi." Obi-Wan wanted to squeeze the singed, wounded child, holding desperately to the bit of life that remained but the spirit was quickly slipping away and the bond was growing thin. "No, no you have to stay. Hang on. Don't go," Obi-Wan wept. "Don't. I need you."

"Was I good a padawan?"

"You are the best and you will be a great Jedi knight."

Bali gave a little smile and his eyes slowly slid closed. 

"No," came a more determined voice. "No. I should have been here. Not for my mistake. I shouldn't have left you alone." The panic eased itself from Obi-Wan's voice as he gently brushed his fingers through the boy's flattened spikes. "No." Reaching into the fading bond he grasped the warmth of the boy's spirit.

__

I won't let you go.

Obi-Wan had done this before and it had nearly killed him. The sacrifice was worth it. No matter what had happened afterward, he would have done it again. There was no question that he had to do this now. Bali needed him. After all, he had sworn to protect and train the little padawan to knighthood, he would not fail in that. Obi-Wan had meant what he said; Bali would be a great Jedi knight. "It's going to be all right," he promised. 

Clinging to the warm spirit Obi-Wan retreated mentally a step and allowed a meditative calm flow through him. Bali was so terribly injured he would need all of his focus to heal the boy just enough to survive.

Bali's soft exhale the only sound in the hall. 

Closing his eyes, but keeping the mental picture of the padawan close, Obi-Wan opened himself to the Force. Horror ripped through the Jedi at Force examination of the lightning induced wounds. His own experience had been traumatic enough but it was nothing compared to damage caused to the young padawan. Channeling the power, he guided its healing touch to the padawan's injured body. The constant, unimpeded flow of the Force burned through the Jedi. It took all of his concentration to keep the flow contained and directed toward his padawan. It was the same act used in healing smaller, less serious injuries where amount of Force flow needed was thin but powerful. But to heal the injuries of his padawan's lightning ravaged body it took more. Much more. Obi-Wan had tapped into the primordial source of the ancient power and turned himself into a living conduit. 

One that was not designed to handle such a Force surge.

A small breath and the thunder of a weak heartbeat was all Obi-Wan heard as the padawan's spirit brightened. The Force's light burned through Obi-Wan like a torch setting every cell on fire but he would maintain the flow until the boy was strong enough to survive with treatment. Just a little longer and Bali would be fine. The bright shining spirit of his padawan was his beacon, it was even more blinding that the Force. As long as he held onto it everything would be fine. 

Obi-Wan grunted fighting to remain focused as his nerves exploded into electric pain. Through his padawan he relived the boy's final moments attacked by the Sith master. So transfixed with the image he did not noticed the edges of his mind begin to blur.

Voices all around called out to him. Hands tugging at him. More voices. Panicked voices. Bali was being pulled from his arms. The warm little spirit crying out.

He felt nothing.

Nothing at all.

_______________________

__

Holonet Broadcasting Company

"the death toll has risen to at least a dozen dead including Senator Amidala's private guard. Still no word on Chancellor Palpatine's missing assistant. The would be assassin was believed to be killed by the quick action of the Jedi.

"In a related story, hostilities against the Jedi are on the rise near the front lines in the war with the League of Secessionists.

"In a statement following the attack on the Senate building, Senator Erigar of the Caris Regime pointed out that the resolution had to pass. The Galactic Senate would fail in its duties to protect the Republic if they allowed such a terroristic attack to frighten them into submission."

_________________

__

The Book of Purification

The air of the funerary chamber crackled as bright orange and yellow flames leapt wildly into the air casting dancing shadows against the curved walls. The golden light showered the two silent witnesses as the fire quickly consumed the yarel branches spread across the bier Shmi Skywalker was laid upon.

Anakin's tears reflected the horror before him but he remained stoic watching the fires greedily consume his mother's body. 

A still bruised Padmé stared up at the nearly catatonic young man. She wrapped herself gently around his arm, pulling close. Human contact, support was all she could offer him. 

After a time, when the body had been reduced to ashes and the flame little more than a warm glow Anakin pulled his eyes from the sight to stare down at the young Senator. Padmé gave him a warm, loving smile. He returned it, wrapping his arm around her shoulders and drawing her close. 

The words were soft, as if she were afraid of creating sacrilege. "Are you going to be all right?"

"I think so." Anakin's gaze returned to the fire. The embers glowed in his bright blue eyes. "We both lost someone in this ordeal, Sirceé, my mother, but you and I survived."

"Yes." She tried to search his eyes, but the distant gaze gave her precious little to evaluate.

"I was so afraid I had lost you too," Anakin said finally. "I never want to have to feel like that again."

Padmé fingered the edge of his dark brown tunic. "What are you saying?" she asked uncertainly even if deep down she knew the unspoken question.

Anakin studied the warm glow that danced over her features. "Marry me."

"They won't let you," she whispered.

"Then I will leave the Order."

"What about your hopes of becoming a Jedi?"

"Jedi serve the Republic. I can still serve even if I am not one. I will be your protection."

"I've already lost one body guard," she said softly. "I can't lose you."

"You won't," Anakin breathed as he leaned forward and kissed the beautiful Senator.

__________________

__

The Book of Being Alone

Qui-Gon had faced the Council's inquisition on the events of the siege of the Senate building. He was forced to explain his apprentice's absence in the chamber. Few things in his long life had been so difficult to admit but the master had spoken plainly about the death of his bond with the young man. He had asked that he and Anakin take extended leave of the Temple to heal and refocus on Anakin's training. Reluctantly the Council had allowed it. Demanding regular reports on his progress. He knew they had been worried. He had only spoken to his padawan once after the action in the Senate. The boy was tending to the injured Naboo Senator but promised he would return to the Temple shortly. 

A deep sigh from the very depths of his being broke free of the gray Jedi master. The Council made him explain Anakin's need to ignore orders and fly off to the aid of one specific Senator numerous times. How little had he known, while he spoke Anakin had silently left the Temple for the last time.

It had been so difficult for the elder master to tell the Council how he had felt the flare of pure hatred from his padawan directed at a child. How the bond had been ruthlessly murdered moments before. Yet, Anakin had not harmed the small apprentice. At least not directly causing pain, but through abandonment. His pride swore that Anakin was not to blame for such an act, even if his heart told him otherwise. He had left a thirteen-year-old to face the enemy alone. 

A message on the comm was waiting for Qui-Gon upon his returned to the quarters he shared with the dusty youth from Tatooine.

An apology for leaving. A gracious thank you for freeing him and giving him a new live but Anakin said he felt his true place was to protect Padmé. She now held a place closer to his heart than the Jedi Order. The messaged ended with the familiar good-bye the boy had often offered his master, yet somehow the words seemed hollow, distant.

This was merely a setback, the older Jedi had decided. He had always believed the Force introduced them for a reason. The boy was the chosen one and he would bring balance to the Force. 

It was only a short time later, when the weary Jedi made his way to his private room. He paused in the little corridor between his and Anakin's rooms. A frightening sense of déjà vu washed over him. 

Anakin's sparse belongings were gone. The little models that once sat on his desk and the few mementos of the past were missing. The bedroll was absent leaving an empty sleep couch save one item. In the center of the bed lay Anakin's lightsaber. 

A Jedi abandoning their lightsaber was sign of resignation from the Order. It was always known but rarely acted upon. With that, Anakin had completely severed his connection to the Order. 

The weight of a long life brought the Jedi master to his knees. Trembling fingers gripped the silver cylinder as he started to sob. The emptiness in his mind where a training bond had existed for so long was overbearing. Suddenly feeling too old to take on another padawan and too old to be of any use anymore. 

Twisting the abandoned saber hilt, the aging Jedi Master wept, not knowing how to face the next day alone.

___________________________

__

Holonet Broadcasting Company

"civil war has broken out.

"In other news, Senator Amidala of Naboo has officially announced her marriage to Anakin Skywalker, a former Jedi and best remembered as the Hero of Naboo nearly ten years ago during the Trade Federation's blockade of the tiny planet. Supreme Chancellor Palpatine officiated the private ceremony."

______________________

__

The Book of Not Being Alone

A freshly cleaned and polished PodBot traveled through the corridor of the healing center. Salmon colored hands held the small, dinged body. The black and gold antenna flopped lifelessly over Bant's fingers as she turned the little inactive droid about. "Why am I not surprised you are in no better shape?" Silver eyes studied the limp antenna and a new, large dent on the droid's underbelly. Receiving no answer, she sighed and entered a private healing room. 

Bant's gaze immediately settled on the medical sleep couch. The sight inspired a small smile.

Curled up under the covers, in the calm of sleep, lay a small padawan. At the edge of the bed, the healer stopped and pulled a medical data pad from the tray over the sleep couch. Flipping through a few screens and adding a notation of her own, she slowly sank to the chair that had become a permanent fixture next to Bali's bed. Seeking the small hand that peeked out from beneath the warm covers, she shoved the green Warbler into Bali's grip.

"I suppose this is a waste of my breath because you're not going to hear a word I say," she paused to eye the unconscious boy. "Keeper Vu'et did his best to patch the little beast up. He said its internal systems were melted." She flicked the droid's one gold antenna. "Lucky for Warbler, its an electrician bot. Its little brain has extra shielding against electrical surges. Vu'et said it was acting weird, but that could be normal Warbler. Just in case, don't activate it until you leave here."

Suddenly becoming quiet, the healer carefully looked over the boy's medical charts again. Thank the Force everything appeared fine. All his vitals continued to strengthen with each passing day. Through the Force, she could sense Bali pulling toward consciousness. Resting a healing hand against the boy's shoulder, she whispered, "Take your time, okay? Don't rush. Give yourself a chance to heal."

The healer knew, no matter how long she lived, the sight of singed, severely injured padawan had been heart wrenching. Yet, it was nothing compared to the barely conscious weeping pleas for his master. 

At first, she feared more than his body was damaged but mind healers, to the best of their knowledge believed there was no physical damage but they wouldn't know for sure until he regained consciousness. The healer in her and her faith in the Force reassured her the boy would be fine. 

Of course, she would just have to be patient, something she knew the Council was also having trouble with. They couldn't wait to get their hooks into him to see what he could tell them about his suspected Sith attacker.

Suspected because no one knew.

Silently she swore as long as she could use her medical override to protect him from the inquisition, she would. 

Out of the corner of one silvery eye, she caught a glimpse of a little steady red light glowing under a bedside table. An irritated breath escaped the Mon Cal as she slipped out of the chair to her knees and strained to reach the object that had her attention. Holding her prize in her open palm, Bant studied the vitals sensor wristband. It appeared to be working but the clasp was shattered. Stuffing the band into her smock's left pocket, she pulled a brand new band out of her right one.

"The healer padawans on rotation must have grown tired of running in here every time the sensor logs report you've died. Next time I come in here, you will probably be sprawled out on the floor dead for an hour before anyone notices." She waited; hoping for a gruff growl but even that was denied her. "Oh, just you be stubborn."

Fighting the frustration that so easily welled up in her, the healer leapt to her feet, replaced Bali's charts and stomped across the small room to the abnormally large window on the opposite wall. Never for a moment did she take her gaze from the cloaked Jedi who quietly watched the distant traffic lines. Well, at least she imagined he was watching something instead of staring aimlessly out.

"Don't ignore me, Obi," she warned softly noting the weariness that colored her friend's aura. She held up the new vitals reader. "Please stop taking these off. We need this to make sure you are doing all right." Without waiting for an answer, she reached across the Jedi's folded arms and clasped a buried wrist. Pulling back the heavy, billowing cloak and the creamy outer tunic sleeve made from a material that was usually reserved for trips to such inhospitable climates as Hoth she revealed a tremor affected hand. Mercilessly she snapped the monitor band around the Jedi's wrist. A series of small lights lit up as they gathered vital information on Obi-Wan's well being.

The Jedi just stared dully at his wrist that Bant still held. 

Adjusting the sleeve again to cover the mildly trembling hand Bant said sternly, "This is not resting." Tugging on the Jedi's wrist, she tried to lead him to a chair. "You must sit down."

Obi-Wan remained steadfast to his place by the window.

"You were injured too, remember? If you don't sit down I'm going to sedate you so you can get some rest and heal." When that did not inspire the Jedi, she added, "You want to be there when Bali wakes up?"

Pale blue flashed. Obi-Wan searched Bant's serious features. "Awake?"

Warm salmon colored fingers brushed against the heavy cloak. "He's working on it and I know Bali will want to see his master first thing. You can't do that if your swimming in a drug induced sleep."

Obi-Wan did not respond, just stared beyond the healer's shoulder at the sleeping boy. 

The Jedi's empty eyes bothered Bant. She could never quite explain it, but the hollow gaze was so different from the usually keen if not cold stare. It was as if there was something missing, but she could not bring herself to look further. A part of her did not want to know.

Memory leapt back to the bright sunshine that day on the emergency landing platform. The wait for the ambulance to arrive had been excruciating. She had been so angry with Dirad for putting her on the team to treat Bali and not Obi-Wan. Now she was grateful. Knowing what Obi-Wan had sacrificed to save his padawan made Bali's survival all the more important. She had been so focused on stabilizing the boy and getting him into care that she never realized how much trouble her friend was in. It was only for a brief moment when she turned to see the Master Healer and his team struggling with Obi-Wan did it strike her just what was sacrificed. 

It took three days before Obi-Wan was stabilized, three days after that the severely weakened Jedi woke to everyone's surprise. They had not been able to keep him from the boy's side since. 

Oblivious to the healer, Obi-Wan slowly shuffled across the small room's tiled floor to the boy's bed. He nearly collapsed into the chair from exhaustion. 

Helplessness surged through the healer as she pulled a blanket from a nearby shelf and carried it to the Jedi. Caring hands gently wrapped the warm material around his broad shoulders. Moving around to face her friend, salmon fingers tipped up the ginger bearded chin. In the coarse healing center light, she thought she saw strands of silver mixed in his whiskers. Maybe it was her imagination, most likely not.

"Look at me," she demanded patiently waiting until the pale blue gaze rose to her. "He's going to wake up when he is ready. But it won't be for a few more hours or a day at least. He knows you care. Trust me. Bali knows. He also would not want you sitting here when he knows you need rest too."

The Jedi reached out and found the small hand wrapped around the dormant Warbler. The fingers traveled on and lightly massaged the boy's brow before brushing back the slightly outgrown brown spikes. Taken by the healing caused chill, Obi-Wan tugged at his cloak and blanket. 

Bant frowned and straightened, folding her arms across her chest, she huffed irritably, "I suppose I should take your stubbornness as a good sign, huh?" Her thoughts returned to the deep sadness embedded in her friend's pale blue eyes. In the weeks since the Jedi had regained consciousness, he had spoke barely a dozen words, most of the time it was _padawan_ and _Bal_. She had come to depend on his eyes to tell her what was going on. The unfamiliar dullness left her to worry that the emptiness had not stopped with his eyes.

A trembling hand reached up and tugged at the cloak and blanket again. "Cold." The mumbled word was slow and slurred having lost the elegance of the inner rim accent. 

"I don't know there is a lot we can do for that," Bant said softly. Kneeing before her friend, the healer carefully adjusted the blanket to better protect Obi-Wan from the phantom coldness that had plagued him for so long. And now had become a burden she did not know if he could handle. "Maybe if you would lie down and take a nap–"

"No," Obi-Wan slurred adamantly even as his weariness showed in heavy eyelids. "Staywakes upstay." Frustration danced across his weary face and tears welled in his eyes. "Balinot alone." One trembling hand tightened into a fist as the other wrapped around the Bali's wrist. He struggled against the crippling injury he had willingly accepted in trade for the boy's life. "Notalone." 

__

-fin-


End file.
